


Angels Sing Their Final Song

by deadlyproserpine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (that's poorly dealt with), -not iwaoi i promise omg, Abusive Parents, Addict Parents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Childhood Trauma, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Domestic Violence, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drunk Sex, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, High School, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Instability, Mentioned Yakuza, Oikawa goes to Argentina, Oral Sex, Past Character Death, Rape, Self-Harm, Suicide, Time Skips, Underage Drinking, University, Very Little Fluff/No Fluff, drug overdose, implied/referenced eating disorder, mental breaks, no happy ending, they love each other so much it tears me apart and im so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 38,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlyproserpine/pseuds/deadlyproserpine
Summary: A tale of blood and numbing agents, a series of regrets and mistakes. This isn’t a love story.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Original Female Character(s), Iwaizumi Hajime/Original Male Character(s), Oikawa Tooru/Original Female Character(s), Oikawa Tooru/Original Male Character(s), Other Minor Relationships
Comments: 106
Kudos: 233





	1. 00- a look into the future

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the prologue of this demon of a fic  
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> please dont proceed without thoroughly looking through tags, thank you <3

His phone has been vibrating non-stop from where it rests underneath his pillow. 

And in no fucking way is it his alarm already. 

With an annoyed sound, Iwaizumi blindly slid a hand under his pillow, edging around until he felt the solid box of his phone. 

Grasping it, he held the much too bright screen up to his face. Blinking a few times in order for his fried corneas to recover, Iwaizumi’s breathing stopped dead in his lungs. 

Eyes drawn to one notification out of all the other’s, then Iwa’s heart stopped beating. 

**Shittykawa**

iwachan the re blod everywhere 

(13 unread messages)

Iwaizumi’s hand was shaking as he unlocked his phone. “Tooru,” he whispered as some sort of prayer that this isn’t happening. 

_ Fuck, this  _ can’t  _ be happening _ . 

Eyes scanning the seamlessly endless channel of message after message, he concluded that this is happening. A burn settled in his eyes, heart stinging with each beat. 

He can’t breathe. 

Reaching the top, it took thrity seconds of convincing in order to just  _ fucking read them _ . 

* * *

**Shittykawa**

Iwa, are you up? 

_ 12:34 am _

Taking that as a no, okay

_ 12:48 am _

Iwa 

Okease im fuck

_ 1:12 am _

im scared

shit iwa im so scared of myself i think im trying to kill myself

i think i just did

_ 1:19 am _

Im so sorry

im so fucking sorry that im like this like i dont ynderstand why and god iwa i love you

and not in the bro way okay ad ik this isnt the tight time to be saying this but i just always wany yk kiss yku and idk iwa im sorry i didnt say jt befite i was dying

_ 1:27 am _

iwachan the re blod everywhere

_ 1:39 am _

i think im dying

_ 1:40 am _

* * *

By the time Iwaizumi reached the end of this nightmare he never thought he’d have to prepare himself for, he was trembling. 

The tears wouldn’t come, whether from shock or disbelief it doesn’t matter. 

Then the bright screen was interrupted by an incoming call. It wasn’t until the caller I.D. registered with him along with the five missed calls, that he realized this is reality. 

A single tear spilled over as he answered the phone. “Iwa!” A voice cried, “he’s-  _ fuck!” _

Crying, pure lamenting could be heard in the background. Almost numbly, Iwaizumi slipped from underneath his covers and began dressing himself with fumbling fingers. “I’ll be there,” he answered, voice alien and- and flat. 

She hung up with a whispered, “hurry.”


	2. 01- bottle it up and risk the overflow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make me into a fool

Iwaizumi hated the summer. He hated the awful weather, the unnecessary sweating, people _everywhere_ , and he especially hated beach volleyball. 

“Iwa-chan,” his childhood best friend whined in that voice, knowing it drove Iwaizumi up the wall. “Why are you so distracted today?”

Iwaizumi opened his eyes slowly, looking across the sand and at Oikawa Tooru. His head was cocked to the side, a playful smile displayed on his lips, chestnut waves falling into his eyes. Then Iwaizumi let his eyes dip further and he felt himself flush. 

Lean, lithe body coated in a sheer layer of sweat that left him shimmering in the blistering sun, Iwaizumi found himself not hating the bright bastard for the first time in his life. 

But fuck, the way the droplets lined the subtle ‘V’ dipped under the waistband of his slipping swimming trunks due to the 100% effort Shittykawa always insisted on putting in, who can _blame_ him for being distracted?

Iwa swallowed thickly and averted his eyes, peering forward. Putting on a blank face was proving to be difficult with the image of Oikawa- _fuck_. “Set to me this time.”

Iwaizumi saw that devilish intent spark in Oikawa’s eyes in his peripheral vision. He had to bite his lips to keep from smiling. “I’ve been waiting for that since this set started, babe.”

God, he loves him. 

Oikawa moved smoothly, standing at the front and giving the intimidating middle blocker a challenging look. Iwaizumi ignored the shiver wracking his spine and moved into his own spot to Oikawa's right. 

The other team served, nothing special. Matsu did a nice receive, bumping the brightly colored sphere into the air. 

Oikawa still had the smirk on his face as he slid underneath the ball. Just as it kissed those coaxing fingers, his gaze shifted to Iwaizumi and he sent it.

He sent it hard and fast, a challenge he knew that would have adrenaline pumping through Iwa in a way that’d make him remember his love for volleyball. 

With a shake of his head, Iwa let go of his weight and sent himself flying. As he was mid-air, ball swirling in front of his face, he let himself take in the faces of the other team, the looks of defeat. 

They have driven them into the ground and Iwaizumi didn’t feel an ounce of guilt as he put in the last hit, driving the ball into the sand with a dignified _thwack_. 

Landing back down, Oikawa was on him. “Iwa-chan, you amazing son-of-a-bitch, you did it!” Then he was hugging him and Iwaizumi could only pat his best friend’s back, praying the heat in his cheeks is from exertion and not, well yeah. 

Iwaizumi didn’t speak until Oikawa moved back a few paces. “I was lagging behind the whole game,” he muttered with a shrug. Oikawa’s smile fell, eyebrows furrowing over once bright eyes. “Just because I earned the winning point doesn’t mean I did anything great, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa stared at him for a few moments before relenting with a breath. “I’m not going to waste my time bothering to make you realize that’s horrendously stupid. You’re too hard-headed.”

Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa rubbed the sweat off of him with a towel, something heavy sitting in his belly. “Yeah, guess I am.”

Oikawa sent him a weird look, but Iwa avoided it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


He was watching a basketball game when his phone lit up, buzzing on his sweatpant clad thigh. 

Iwaizumi smiled at the profile picture of Oikawa illuminating the screen, eyes settled into a glare as a tacky birthday hat was perched in his chestnut curls and cake booped on his nose.

Catching himself, he ignored the sick feeling gnawing at his stomach. Iwaizumi muted the game and answered the phone. “What?”

He could practically hear the eye roll in Oikawa’s voice. “Wow, feel the love.” 

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Iwaizumi sighed, sitting up on his bed. Oikawa’s voice was flat and it’s weirding him out. 

The silence seemed endless, not even the sound of his breath hitting the receiver. “Why would something be wrong?” 

His voice was high-pitched and scratchy, unsure. He was lying. 

Out of all the things that Oikawa does, the only thing that settles under Iwaizumi’s skin like a parasite is when the dumbass _lies_ to him. “Tooru,” he ground out, “how long have we been friends?”

The setter groaned, followed by the rustling of blankets. Iwaizumi can vividly see the pretty boy throwing a temper tantrum. “Iwa-chan, c’mon not this,” he whined. 

“How long?” 

“Thirteen years,” Oikawa grumbled like a child. 

“So,” Iwaizumi sang, “why are you lying to me?” 

There was the faint drumming of blunt fingernails on wood and Iwaizumi knew exactly how he probably moved to the floor and sitting in front of the table, the TV washing him out in LED colors. “Can you come over?” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t know why. Maybe it was the broken glass in his best friend’s voice or just a feeling, but something feels wrong. “Should I prepare myself for anything?” He asked, knowing that whatever is going on with Oikawa definitely has to do with his dad. 

“No.” 

Iwaizumi let out a breath. “I’ll be over in ten.” 

“Stupid, I live twenty minutes away.”

“So?” 

Oikawa let out a laugh, a real one. So loud and dumb, always followed by a snort, raw and so Tooru, It made Iwaizumi feel like- like home. “Don’t get a speeding ticket like last time.” 

  
_You make me into a fool_.

“No promises.”


	3. 02- realizations stir up guts and uproot old wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I asked for it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's short

Even though he didn’t like basketball, Oikawa didn’t even put up a fight as Iwaizumi clicked through the guide and ended up on the game he was watching earlier. 

Iwaizumi assumes it’s because he already did once that day. 

After flying into Oikawa’s driveway and pissing off all of his fancy neighbors inside his gated community and bursting into the boy’s house, he noticed that Oikawa saying he shouldn’t prepare himself for anything was absolute bullshit.

Now, sitting inside the living room, Iwaizumi on the couch and Oikawa situated on the ground to his right, it was almost impossible to tear his eyes away from the bruises. “I thought you said this stopped years ago,” Iwaizumi stated without thinking. 

Oikawa shifted uncomfortably, jaw clenching just slightly. “It- it did, Iwa,” he said, so small and sad that it caused Iwaizumi's heart to clench in his chest. And not just because of what irrational feelings he has for the pretty bitch, but becuase he fucking cares about him and this pisses him off. He couldn’t stop himself from fisting the material of his sweatpants. Oikawa’s eyes were big as they captured the small movement. “Iwa, it’s okay,” he choked out. His delicate setter hand settled over his fist. “I’m fine.” 

Iwaizumi couldn’t help the scoff as he tore his hand out from underneath Oikawa’s to grab at the tiny wrist to flip the limb over and expose the milky flesh stained with blue and purple bruises. “Think I didn’t notice this or anything?” He growled, letting the limb go for it to fall limply in Oikawa’s lap. Then he looked upon those pretty pair of eyes, so chocolate and warm as they looked back at him, and Iwaizumi felt himself go soft. With a shaky finger, he ran it down the swollen flesh around his eye. Bringing it up to his face, Iwaizumi frowned at the foundation accumulated there. He tried like hell not to focus on the stripe of abused and bludgened skin he revealed. “Tell me, _bro_ , how any of this is okay?” 

Oikawa could only stare up at him with wide eyes. At this moment, Iwa saw the same broken and sad little boy as he did back in preschool. Then Oikawa’s head hung, watching as his fingers picked at his nails and nail beds. Iwa noted to himself to make sure he stopped before he began to bleed. “I asked for it.” 

The anger flared up like a molotov was tossed down his throat to shatter against his oil slicked insides. But, Oikawa spoke again before Iwaizumi could. “Before you start yelling, I’m not an angel, Iwa. That might not mean I deserve this, but I should have known better. I have zero regard for myself, you know that.” 

“But that doesn’t mean-”

Oikawa held up a shaky hand. “I said something I shouldn’t have, I provoked when I knew what would happen. Now, let's just forget about it and watch a bunch of sweaty mountain-like men fight over a ball.” He rubbed off the rest of the makeup with a hiss and Iwaizumi’s anger turned to tears in his eyes. 

“Okay,” he said as level as possible. “You can sit with me up here, y’know.” 

Oikawa looked up at him in surprise. “I’ll cuddle,” he warned. 

_That’s the point_. “So?”

“You hate it…” 

Iwaizumi shrugged, hoping the burn in his cheeks wasn’t obvious. “But you don’t.” 

Oikawa let out an excited sound and threw himself onto the couch, burrowing underneath Iwaizumi’s arm. Oikawa was always so warm against him, so solid. In moments like these, with Oikawa’s breath fanning down his shirt as he nuzzled his face into his neck, he was just as much of a pillar for Iwaizumi as he was for Oikawa.


	4. 03- blind and oblivious, or just stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought I’d be happier, too

~~two months later~~ ; _august_

* * *

“Are you happy?” Oikawa asked Iwaizumi, swinging with no real effort back and forth on the swing. 

“Is that really a proper question to ask me when we’re drunk at four a.m. at some park because my mom wouldn’t let us in the house?” He asked with a dry laugh. 

Oikawa rolled his eyes, kicking up a pebble at him. “Shut up, you’re so dramatic. I just thought because Mei-san finally asked you out you’d look less- less grumpy.”

“Grumpy?”

“Yes, grumpy.”

Iwaizumi felt offended but ignored it, dubbing it due to the good amount of alcohol still steadfast in his system. “I- I thought I’d be happier, too.”

“Well,” Oikawa sang softly, “why aren’t you.”

“I dunno,” Iwaizumi sighed, laying back in the grass. The warm summer breeze was blowing freely, nice as it surrounded him in a chrysalis. “Maybe I didn’t like her as much as I thought I did?”

Truth is, Iwaizumi only said yes thinking that going out with a girl as gorgeous and outgoing as Mei, he’d finally forget about Oikawa. Even if Mei is just a female equivalent to the annoying male, she’s not _him_. 

Oikawa scoffed. “How? She’s absolutely perfect for you, Iwa-chan!”

The irony in him saying that was enough to pull a cackle from Iwaizumi’s throat. “Is that so?” He humored. 

” _Yes_ ,” the setter exasperated. “Even if I have to physically force you, you’re going on that date with her.”

Iwaizumi never thought Oikawa pushing him to date someone so stubbornly would hurt so badly. “No need for that. I never said I wasn’t going, I barely know her. It could change after the date.”

“Good,” Oikawa hummed, eyes shifting to his phone. The silence was nice as it settled around them. Iwaizumi basked in the way his thoughts were too mushy to make him more sad than he already is. “Makki said we can crash at his.”

“ _Sweet.”_

  
  
  


As the pair drunkenly stumbled through the door, a mess of giggles and drunken attempts at words, Makki didn’t even try to make conversation with them. 

He knew how the pair got when they were together, revolving around only one another. 

“I have blankets and pillows set up in the living room with an air mattress for one of you to fight over,” Makki said as soon as they stopped whatever it was that they were doing. 

Oikawa fell on Makki, arms wrapping around him in a hug. “Oh, Makki-chan, you’re such a good friend,” he cried into his shoulder. 

Before Makki could even hug him back, Iwaizumi was gripping the boys shirt and ripping him from Makki, too pull the sentimental drunk towards the living room. “I don’t think Makki cares for your cancer bullshit, Tooru.”

Since when was Iwaizumi into astrology?

And _Tooru_?

Shrugging it off, Makki let the two be and went back to bed. 

  
  
  


Iwaizumi woke up to a flat air mattress beneath him, pounding headache, the taste of death in his mouth, and a face full of chestnut curls that smelled like strawberries. 

Fuck, just how drunk was he last night?

Opening his eyes and removing his face from where it was buried in Oikawa’s hair, he looked directly through the harsh morning sun and directly at Makki’s “are you serious?” face. 

And he gave the ginger a sheepish smile. 

“Get up Iwa, I made you coffee.”

From all the times he has woken up before with Oikawa in almost this exact position, he knew removing himself wouldn’t wake him. 

He pushed himself up onto his feet from the hard floor. As he made his way into the kitchen, following the rich smell of black coffee like a tired hound, Iwaizumi locked his fingers and stretched his arms above his head, cracking his back and his sides, realigning himself from sleeping wrong. 

He sat at the large granite island, peering around the sleek kitchen as he always forgets just how well off most of his teammates are. 

Makki slipped a mug towards him across the counter, a shitty smile playing at his lips. Iwaizumi took a ginger sip before leveling him with a look. “I’m too hungover for you bullshit, Makki.”

The tall bastard’s grin deepened. “But you’re drunk ass can handle Oikawa’s just fine, huh?” 

He raised his cup and took a long drink as Iwaizumi glared at him. “What are you getting at now?”

Hanamaki shrugged, running a hand through strawberry blonde strands. “I had the couch set up along with the air mattress you two did know, right?”

“Yeah? And picking the air mattress was a fucking _mistake_ , asshole. My back is all sorts of messed up now.”

Makki looked tired. “For the both of you. Why were you guys cuddling? And you’re shirtless.” 

Iwaizumi was about to say it was hot last night, but that will only dig him into a bigger hole. He opened his mouth to speak, but a yawn came from behind him. “Sorry for being so cuddly last night, Iwa-chan.” The brunette collapsed into the stool next to him, looking good even with his eyes puffy and red, curls everywhere. “Aiko broke up with me last night.”

_She did?_

Makki made a sound and slapped a hand on Oikawa’s weirdly frail shoulder. “Sorry about that, Oikawa-san.”

The pretty setter shrugged, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. “We’ll be together again by tomorrow.”

_Naturally_ , Iwaizumi thought bitterly as he took a long drink from the coffee. All this is only making his hangover all that much more apparent. 

With a groan, Iwaizumi dug his phone out from where it was buzzing in the pocket of the jeans he was wearing last night. _How nice._

Looking at the caller I.D., Iwaizumi let out a slow sigh. “My mom,” he said to no one in particular before answering it and bringing it up to his ear. 

“Yeah, muh-“

“Hajime, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking last night! Work was stressing me out and _god_ , are you okay? Where is Tooru? Are you bo-“

“Mom,” he yelled into the receiver before the poor woman talked herself into an early grave. Oikawa let out a giggle beside him. “We’re fine. Tooru and I are at Hanamaki’s.”

She let out a long relieved sigh. “Okay. I’ll pick you guys up in ten, okay?”

“Okay, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Hanging up, Iwaizumi placed his phone down with a sigh. He looked over to see Oikawa staring at him, an authentic smile spread along his lips. “Told you she wouldn’t be angry for long.”

Iwaizumi was about to open his mouth and argue, saying what she did shouldn’t be excused, when he remembered cold gazes and stern voices barren of anything besides indifference. “Yeah. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave your thoughts if you want, theyre greatly appreciated :)


	5. 04- it only takes one decision to make or break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Iwaizumi wanted to punch himself in the face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the boys are in the fall of their 2nd year, just so yall are like- a w a r e bc i suck at explanations 🙄

The restaurant was lit up with red tinted lights. The smell of ramen and meat in the air. 

And Iwaizumi wanted to punch himself in the face. 

“Are you okay, Iwa?” Mei asked, spoon full of broth posed halfway to her mouth, the lips glossed and pretty as they pouted slightly. “You’ve been really quiet.”

He felt sick to his stomach as he looked at her, forcing a half assed smile. “I’m just a little tired from practice is all.” She looked so pretty, long and thick brown hair cascading down her back and falling over her shoulder in neat tendrils, cheeks pink and chubby, eyes looking at Iwaizumi as if he isn’t the biggest piece of shit.

“Okay,” she hummed in her sweet voice. “Where were we with the agonizing small talk?”

Iwaizumi snorted and relaxed in his chair. “Plans after high school.”

Her eyes got big and excited. “Yes! So why aren’t you reaching for a professional player? Oikawa-san is shooting for Division One. It’s weird that you aren’t also, you guys go together.”

_He’s dreaming, not shooting._

Iwaizumi shrugged, taking a distractive sip of water to think over what he should say. “Oikawa isn’t going to be a professional player, Mei,” he said before realizing this isn’t his bitter reality to say. 

“Oh?”

But it’s Mei, who’s known Oikawa her entire life since they’re neighbors and both being the same age. “His dad has a set future for him.” There’s a reason why the parent of such a talented player like Oikawa was never at the games. “He’s going to be a surgeon.”

Mei blinked at him owlishly. “Is that what he wants?”

Iwaizumi, again, shrugged. “He’s never said he doesn’t, but he hasn’t said he does either.” But Iwaizumi can see it, the deeply rooted unhappiness Oikawa possesses 95% of the time. “But enough of that cocky bastard,” Iwaizumi sang, an easy smile playing on his lips. 

  
  
  


The pavement was rushing under his feet as Iwaizumi ran. He didn’t have to think one moment when to turn or of where he was going. 

_I’ll always find my way to you_. 

He realized, as he sat in his bed alone after rejecting Mei at the door and watching her cry, that his best friend isn’t just an irrational crush Iwa can simply force out of his system. Because as he crashed her back against the wall of his bedroom, kissing her hungrily, he saw Oikawa behind his eyes. Just telling himself that it’s not Oikawa he has pressed against the wall or that it’s Mei gasping into his mouth, made his stupid heart ache so badly in his chest he couldn’t breathe. 

He can’t live like this. 

Iwaizumi has to do something. Even if that particular something is incredibly moronic and possibly damaging. 

But as he reached the front door of the house Iwaizumi has spent just as much time in as his own home, nothing told him to turn around. 

Lifting a fist, Iwaizumi rapped obnoxiously hard knowing Oikawa had the hearing of an old lady. 

As he waited, Iwa went over the plan in his head. From the door opening and seeing Oikawa standing before him wearing his glasses, his hair unstyled and bushy, wearing a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt to Iwaizumi gripping the collar of the tee and _finally_ crashing his mouth against Oikawa’s. 

But Oikawa was taking too long. The more he thought of it, the more he thought of the ways this plan can go seriously wrong. “Fuck,” he sighed to himself. Just as he was about to let himself in, the door ripped open. 

And Iwa staggered back. The Oikawa standing in front of him wasn’t anywhere near resembling the one in his plan and he didn’t imagine it could go wrong this way. His hair was messy, but the kind that was ripped and torn by fingers. He was wearing a nicer dress shirt, but the first two buttons popped open. 

Oikawa was breathing heavily and his lips were red and bitten. 

Then, like a snake, thin milk white arms wrapped themselves around the delicate waist. A subtle chin perching itself on Oikawa’s shoulder, dark eyes narrowing at Iwaizumi’s exhausted form. _Aiko._

“Iwa-chan, what’s wrong?” Oikawa asked, eyes still lidded from whatever was taking place before Iwaizumi’s interruption. “You look sick.”

Iwaizumi’s vision was swimming as he tried to look at his best friend. “I- uh-” He doesn’t understand how this hasn’t registered with him. Aiko is his girlfriend, Oikawa hasn’t been a virgin for a very long time, and yet Iwaizumi never thought of him-

Oikawa removed Aiko’s grip from his waist and took a worried step forward. “Did you _run_ here?” 

Iwaizumi shook his head. “No, it’s just- call me when you’re done here.” 

“Iwa-chan, what? I can’t just go back to what I was doing knowing that you’re-” 

“I’m what?” Iwaizumi snapped. Oikawa blinked at him, eyes wide. “Just forget it.” 

Iwaizumi turned and left the door. Oikawa was calling for him, but Iwaizumi shoved in his ear buds and hoped his heart breaking wasn’t displayed on his face. 

  
  
  


A year and a half later, they still never talked about that night. 

Oikawa has had three “girlfriends” since. Iwaizumi and Mei were celebrating their one year anniversary and he grew accustomed to the pretty setter plaguing his thoughts. 

And he wasn’t wrong when he said he couldn’t live this way. 


	6. 05- a build up to an explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t feel a goddamn thing

Mei’s legs wrapped fluidly around Iwaizumi’s waist as he peppered bites up her neck to the underside of her jaw. “Iwa,” she whispered, voice delicate like petals as it fell upon Iwaizumi’s bare skin. 

“Mh?” He hummed, continuing his ministrations: fingers ghosting along Mei’s rib cage, kisses and nips at her skin, hand getting lower and lower from where it rested on the delicious dip of her waist. Her hips were lifting and whines were leaving her throat, desperation spilling out of Mei unabashedly. 

“I-I’m ready, please just-“

And Iwaizumi did so. Bottoming out with a groan, he knew he should be feeling more than he is. Especially when she leaned forward, labored breaths puffing against his ear, and whispered, “I love you, Iwa.”

He didn’t feel a goddamn fucking thing. 

  
  
  


Iwaizumi was sitting on Matsukawa’s nice ass couch, watching as the party lived around him. He was busying himself with the bottle of whatever he grabbed off of the island, wishing his mind would just fucking melt already. 

People kept trying to tell him congrats on the win, how Seijoh is one step closer to running Shiratorizawa into the ground, and with each one of them he has to bite back the bark. 

It doesn’t help that Oikawa is situated on the couch parallel from him, a new toy perched in his lap. 

And he broke Mei’s heart the day before. 

And Yahaba won’t stop _talking. “_ Iwaizumi, I’m so sorry to hear about Mei. You good, man?” Iwaizumi only nodded as his jaw was far too stiff to talk. He took a swig from the foreign bottle clutched in his fist, dark eyes trained on Oikawa. “Uh, you sure you're good?”

Iwaizumi’s insides were on _fire_. 

And he’s pretty fucking drunk. 

Oikawa was smirking against her mouth and his pretty eyes are connected with his, a teasing glint in the chocolate pools. “Fuck,” Iwaizumi yelled to himself as he quickly rose to his feet. He kicked back the rest of the liquor, sending the fire in his belly into a frenzy. 

“Iwa-“ Yahaba said worriedly behind him but he was already stomping his way into the kitchen. 

Nudging himself through the bodies, Iwaizumi didn’t even look at the bottle before grasping it and swiftly sending the cap somewhere with a flick. 

He brought it up to his lips and took a dangerous gulp. Thank god he was at the point in completely and utterly _wasted_ that taste wasn’t even a sense anymore because looking at the label he recognized it as straight whiskey. “Man, Hajime,” he sighed to himself. “Tonight is going to be a night, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this scene will be continued over to the next chapter :)


	7. 06- for it to sizzle and die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa

Oikawa has seen Iwaizumi drink enough times that he knows exactly where his best friend is at in his wasted journey simply by looking at him. 

And Iwaizumi was at the point in his journey that he’s lost himself. 

Watching him, Oikawa didn’t know what to do. The tan male was slamming shots, going completely feral. He was so wasted his eyes were swimming in his skull. 

Oikawa couldn’t watch it anymore. 

Walking up to his best friend, Iwaizumi didn’t recognize him until Oikawa said, “Iwa-chan,” in a careful tone. “Are you done?”

Iwaizumi leveled him with a nasty look that’d have Oikawa’s guts clenching if he could find it within himself to give a shit. Then he opened his mouth. “What do you mean, _am I done_?” He spat, stepping into Oikawa’s personal space. 

And Oikawa sneered the few centimeters down at him. A little wasted himself, he thought it a good idea to take a step closer. Iwaizumi’s scent surrounded him, the earthy quality mixed with booze, it had Oikawa’s head spinning for a moment. 

Iwaizumi’s green eyes were wildfire and Oikawa thought, for a fraction of second, how it would feel to just let them consume his body. 

Shaking the thoughts away, he parried Iwaizumi’s murderous look with a smirk, eyes narrowed teasingly. People were gathering around them. 

_Let them fucking watch_.

“You’re being immature, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa purred. Something sparked in those eyes, dimming the flames. “Stop embarrassing yourself.”

Iwaizumi scoffed and stepped back, or stumbled rather. “You’re fucking kidding me right? God, you drive me _crazy_."

Now, Oikawa’s guts were clenching. But it wasn’t out of fear. He’s pissed, so fucking livid it was sour and tangy on his tongue. 

A laugh escaped him, empty and terrifying. Iwaizumi’s hard ass face fell slightly as the sound reached his ears. Oikawa looked at him with burning eyes. 

He didn’t see his best friend standing before him. 

“Have you _looked_ at yourself, Iwaizumi?” Oikawa growled lowly, taking a steady step towards the asshole. “What the fuck are you doing, huh? You’re so wasted you can’t even stand the fuck up!” Oikawa screamed. Iwaizumi’s green eyes went wide, but Oikawa wasn’t done. Not yet. “Is it because of Mei? Because you’re a goddamn piece of shit who broke her heart?” Oikawa got up in the suddenly silent boy’s face, lips quirked in an odd-fitting smirk. “Suddenly quiet?”

Iwaizumi’s jaw ground, teeth audibly cracking. “You don’t know shit of what happened, Shittykawa. How can you even talk?” Iwaizumi laughed humorlessly. “Do you know how many girls I’ve watched run out of your house crying? Then to walk in there and see you lounging around and not giving a single _shit_."

“Because I don’t. I tell them straight out that I’m not here for a long time, if they get attached, it’s not my problem,” Oikawa said. “We’re both complete _shit_ , Iwaizumi. The difference, however, is that I don’t fucking _lie_ about it!”

Iwaizumi’s hands curled into tight fists, jaw grinding, and eyes dark. 

_Go on, hit me. I dare you_.

But like someone flipped a switch, Iwaizumi stood down. His shoulders slumped and his hands unfurled. He looked at the people gathered around them with a tired look. Then his rough hands were wrapped around Oikawa’s forearm, pulling him through the crowd. “Let’s just go,” he said in a slurred mumble. 

Breaking out of the packed house, the chilly air of fall washed over Oikawa’s flushed cheeks. He let his eyes slide close, taking in how nice it felt to just breathe in the calm air around him. 

Opening them to look at Iwaizumi, Oikawa felt sad. “Iwa-chan, I’m-“

Iwaizumi released his arm for it to fall back at Oikawa’s side. “Shut up. You’re staying at my place right?”

The memory of what happened last time he came home drunk plagued him and Oikawa nodded. “Please.”

“C’mon, Idiot.”

Halfway to Iwaizumi’s house from Matsukawa-san’s, Iwaizumi’s hand slipped into Oikawa’s. Something warm blossomed in his chest. 

Resting his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, they continued to walk in a pleasurable silence, smiling big. 

Because it’s only in moments like this that Oikawa is at peace with being in love with Iwaizumi Hajime.


	8. 07- spilling blood and staining the once pure water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m singing my happy song, Iwa-chan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood Trigger

_9 years ago- 7 Years Old_

  
  
  
  


Oikawa was skipping along behind Iwaizumi, singing a song he put together with random words, and he wishes he was as annoyed as he’s making it seem. “Oi, could you shut up?”

Oikawa skipped up next to him, a big smile sprawled out on his face. It exposed little tooth gaps where his baby teeth fell out. “Nope. I’m singing my happy song, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and kept trudging forward on the sidewalk. “Why? We’re going to school,” he grumbled. 

Oikawa stopped singing, smile faltering a little bit. He stopped skipping as he said, “It’s better than at home.”

Iwaizumi scoffed loudly. “ _What_? But home is where there’s good food and video games and-“ Iwaizumi’s voice died as he took in Oikawa next to him. “Did he- Did he do it again?”

Oikawa’s little first wrapped around the straps of his backpack tightly. His eyes were trained on his shoes moving beneath him as he nodded. “Daddy drank a little too much,” he muttered. “Momma had to put her girl stuff on me this morning, but she said it made me look even more beautiful so I wasn’t angry.”

“Girl stuff?”

Oikawa nodded excitedly. Spitting on his hand, he rubbed at his cheek with a slight wince.

The chubby cheeks on Oikawa’s face were swollen and red, his cheekbones splotched with green and yellow bruises. 

Iwaizumi stopped dead in his tracks. “Why did he do that, Oikawa?”

The boy shrugged. “I was talking too much.”

That day, as he watched Oikawa reapply make-up at the age of seven to his bruised flesh in the bathroom, Iwaizumi made a promise he knew he couldn’t keep to himself. He never wanted to see Oikawa’s skin painted and swollen ever again. 

  
  
  


_3 years ago- 13 years old_

  
  


Iwaizumi, over the years, has made it his mission to deter Oikawa’s nightmare as much as possible. He was over at the boy’s house as much as he possibly could knowing his dad won’t do anything with him there, knowing that even if he did, Iwaizumi wouldn’t stand by. 

Until Oikawa’s mom died. 

Iwaizumi will never forget the feeling in his legs as he walked up to Oikawa’s house. The place was flooded with flashing lights and police and first responders. Neighbors stood on the sidewalk, some gawking and some quietly crying. 

But when the lamenting broke through the sirens, the familiar sound prickling at his skin, Iwaizumi didn’t hesitate even a second before jumping the makeshift barrier. 

Police officers yelled behind him but all Iwaizumi heard was Oikawa Tooru screaming. Turning towards an open ambulance and taking in his best friend as he tore apart at the seams, Iwaizumi’s knees almost completely buckled beneath him. 

“‘Kawa,” Iwaizumi croaked, taking a wobbly step forward. Oikawa’s eyes opened as much as they could with the tears welling and intertwining his eyelashes. 

Iwaizumi watched frozen as Oikawa reached out with his two gangly arms that were coated in bruises and dried blood. “Ha-H-Haj-“ Iwaizumi practically fell into Oikawa, burying his now tear streaked face into the chestnut curls. 

He doesn’t think as long as he lives or what happens to him, Iwaizumi will never forget the way Oikawa gripped at his shirt and _screamed._

Oikawa, naturally, wasn’t the same after that. But it wasn’t just in the way he grew a little more quiet or how he was pained more blue than usual. It was the way he’d disappear sometimes. Iwaizumi would stop by after not hearing from him to see his best friend huddled in his bed, eyes empty as they soaked in whatever it was being displayed on the TV. He looked like a stranger.

Then there were the scars. 

  
  
  


It was only Oikawa and Iwaizumi left in the locker rooms since they were the only ones who declined going out for dinner, already having movie plans that night. Iwaizumi was sitting on the bench, staring at the wall in front of him with an impatient expression because _goddamn_ Oikawa really takes his fucking time. 

“Oi, Trashykawa, what the fuck is taking…” His voice died when the man himself finally exited the showers. His hair was darkened and wet, sticking to his forehead and the nap of his neck, towel low on his hips. Oikawa gave him a deadpanned look, head cocked to the side, but his eyes glittered slightly. “Took you long enough,” Iwaizumi muttered lamely, eyes dipping back down to his phone clutched in his hand. 

Oikawa chuckled, the sound emptier than it used to be. Stepping up to his locker, he dropped his towel, the soaked white fabric falling on the concrete with a thud around Oikawa’s feet. Iwaizumi watched through the corner of his eyes as goosebumps bumped on his calves as the cold bit at the pale and pretty skin, beaten red from the heat of the showers. 

_Shit_ , Iwaizumi cursed, screwing his eyes shut. 

He’s losing his mind. 

It felt like an hour before Oikawa was dressed. “Ready, Iwa-chan?” 

Iwaizumi rose with a grumble, swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and squaring his friend with a look. “I’ve _been_ ready for twenty minutes.” 

Oikawa rolled his eyes and pushed forward. “C’mon, grumpy. We have movies to watch.” 

  
  


Back at Iwaizumi’s, they were sitting at the table. He could only watch, slowly eating his food, as Oikawa happily chatted with his mom, gossiping and talking shit. 

It was hell. 

“What movie are you two watching?” His mom asked, plucking a piece of beef from her plate. 

“It’s Tooru’s turn to pick, so probably something stupid,” Iwaizumi muttered before shoving a stack of meat into his mouth himself. 

Oikawa gasped dramatically, looking at Iwaizumi with an agape mouth. “Iwa- _chan_ , that was so, so-” 

Iwaizumi smirked. “True?” He offered around his mouthful of food. A grunt came from Oikawa’s direction. Iwaizumi didn’t know what the irritating idiot did until something hot and slimy hit his cheek and falling to the table with a slap. Looking towards the culprit, Iwaizumi took in the proud look on his best friend’s face and had to hold on to the anger he’s supposed to have, but it’s proving to be harder than it sounds as this is probably the happiest he’s seen Oikawa in months. 

Iwaizumi plucked up his own piece of meat, ready to fire, when his mom spoke, “if you boy’s would rather throw your food than eat it, I presume you’re finished?” 

Iwaizumi’s heart would pinch in guilt if it wasn’t for the smile on his mom’s face. He dropped his beef back on his plate with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever,” he sang, grabbing his plate and walking towards the kitchen and dumping the plate in the sink. “Ready, Crappykawa?” 

Oikawa jumped to his feet with an excited sound. He practically ran towards the kitchen and threw his plate in. He was still running as he snatched Iwaizumi’s wrist and drugged him behind all the way into Iwaizumi's bedroom. 

After changing into their pajamas, Oikawa popped in whatever stupid movie he wants to watch. They settled under Iwaizumi’s comforter. He prepared himself for some sappy dramatic movie, but when the opening of _Star Wars_ poured from his sound system, Iwaizumi let out a sigh of content and relaxed against the wall. 

Oikawa scooched up next to him, leaning his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. His hair was bushy and tickling the bottom of Iwaizumi’s chin, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Not even when the brunette fell asleep on him. 

Turning off the movie, Iwaizumi tried to maneuver both of them without waking up sleeping beauty to the best of his ability. It was when he was pushing at Oikawa’s legs, bare due to the ridiculous shorts, that Iwaizumi’s life came to a brief halt. 

Hand brushing his upper thigh, Iwaizumi expected the soft baby skin of Oikawa Tooru, but what graced his appendage was rough and swollen flesh. Lifting the blanket in confusion, Iwaizumi laid his eyes upon a horrorshow. 

A network of red gashes were marred across the thin plane of skin. Beneath the bright red wounds laid white and risen marks, showcasing that this has been going on for a long time. With a stuttering breath, Iwaizumi gently dropped the blanket back down and settled on his pillow. 

Oikawa was once again wrapped around him like a koala, face nuzzling into his skin and breathing him in, a dopey smile on his face. Looking over at the boy, Iwaizumi couldn’t choke back the will as he brushed back Oikawa’s untamed and unstyled bangs from his eyes. He couldn’t choke back the tears either. 

Because looking down at the only person he’s ever loved, Iwaizumi never felt so helpless. 

He’s not blind to Tooru and what he does to himself. He’s watched him tear himself to shreds on the inside and the outside. Iwaizumi is fully aware of how he starves himself, how he has pushed himself to the brink of a total mental collapse. 

Iwaizumi has _watched_ him completely break, watched him raise a hand at a child, watched him scream and tear his hair out-

Suddenly a warm hand was on his cheeks, breaking him from his thoughts. Green eyes flashing open, Iwaizumi was met with molten chocolate. “Haji?” Oikawa breathed, voice a mere whisper as if the name had too much meaning to mutter any louder. “Haji, why are you crying?” A thumb swiped just under his cheekbone, smearing the droplets across the tanned skin. 

It was obvious and he was caught, but still, Iwaizumi always had such a stubborn grasp of immature strength. “I’m not.” 

Oikawa laughed, sleepy and breathlessly. “Okay,” he sighed, rising his lips to Iwaizumi’s head and planting a kiss there. “Whatever you say.” 

_And why are you so good at hiding?_ Was the last thing Iwaizumi thought until he let himself fall into the comfort of Oikawa against him and thoughtless sleep.


	9. 08- coma babies with their sick laughs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi pressed a hand to his mouth as he felt another sob push it’s way out of his throat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it gets pretty sad :’( poor iwa
> 
> chapters will start to get more lengthy as we approach the climax, around 1.5k words or so :)
> 
> but please go over the tags again to prepare yourself for this chapter and the upcoming one, thank you !

“How long has he been gone, Iwaizumi?” Matsu asked as they sat at lunch, none of them really eating. “This seems like it’s been longer than the other times.” 

Iwaizumi shrugged, picking at his grapes with a disposable chopstick. He doesn’t want to talk about Oikawa right now. “A couple of days?” He posed it as a question but he knew for sure that Oikawa has disappeared for three days now. 

Not a text, not online on any social media, nothing. Even driving past the boy’s house, the place was lifeless. 

Matsu nodded and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “I hope he’s okay.” 

“We all do,” Makki voiced sadly, but he laid a harsh look on Iwaizumi. “Have you checked on him?”

_I can’t see him like that anymore._

Iwaizumi let out a long sigh and slouched in the chair, hands digging into the pocket of the plaid pants he was forced to wear. He let his eyes flutter closed but all he saw was the empty gaze of Oikawa, the flesh marred by gashes. How he shook when Iwaizumi held him. “He obviously wants to be alone. Besides, it might partially be my fault.” _It wasn’t, we were fine after the fight._

But what else can he tell Makki? That one of his closest friends has been lying to him his entire life, that he’s only close with the mask Oikawa puts forward? Yeah, no. That would only end worse than Makki simply standing up from his chair, eyes burning into Iwaizumi’s passive face. “You’re a piece of shit, Iwa. You know that right?” 

He doesn’t want to get pissed, but he felt the emotion swarm inside of him like a swarm of wasps. “Makki, you don’t even know what you’re talking about. I’ve known him since I was two, he just needs _time,_ okay?” 

Makki’s fists relaxed and he fell back in his chair with a breath. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just, at practice yesterday he just seemed-”

“Dead?” Kyotani suddenly offered, earning all the eyes at the table. 

“Y-yeah,” Makki stuttered. “Yeah, dead.” 

Iwaizumi couldn’t take it anymore. Rising to his feet and grabbing his tray, Iwaizumi said, “He’ll be fine. He’s Oikawa,” before turning around, dumping his tray, and walking out with the slam of the cafeteria doors. 

Dead eyes. Scarred skin. Screaming. 

Iwaizumi kept walking, feet numbly carrying him until he was outside the front doors of the school. Chucking his backpack into the backseat of his car, Iwaizumi got inside and jammed the key into the ignition. He didn’t realize he was crying until a droplet fell on his thigh, forming a darkened spot. A few more followed until he felt himself falling apart. 

He rested his head on the steering wheel and let himself crumble. 

He’s tired of it. He’s tired of the empty smiles and the fucking lies. He’s sick of the secrets. He can’t keep watching Oikawa kill himself, each time being more fatal than the last. 

With a sniffle, Iwaizumi weakly gripped at his composure and slammed the car into drive. 

He’s getting answers. 

  
  
  


Standing outside the front door, Iwaizumi dug out his phone from his pocket, speed dialing Oikawa’s number. Staring down at the contact photo, Iwaizumi would have sobbed if it wasn’t for Oikawa’s voice drifting from the speaker. Iwaizumi brought it up to his ear with a stuttering breath. “I’m outside your house. Open the door.” 

“What?” Oikawa asked dumbly, voice hoarse with disuse. 

“Open. The. Door.” Iwaizumi’s words came out cut and hoarse, the tears in his eyes making them break apart. 

Oikawa sucked in a breath. “Okay.” 

It was a few seconds before the door was slowly opened, giving sight to the boy Iwaizumi has been in love with since he could remember. “Iwa-chan, what’s wrong?” Oikawa breathed when he caught sight of his red-rimmed eyes, puffy cheeks. 

Iwaizumi took the few wobbly steps into the house, shedding his stupid jacket on the nice marble flooring. He turned to Oikawa, taking in the blanket he was huddled under, how his glasses sat crooked on his nose. The dead eyes. “You.” 

“I-” 

Iwaizumi stepped closer, willing himself to be strong for just one more minute, but the longer he looks at Oikawa, it feels like someone is slamming a sledgehammer into his chest. “How long have we been friends, T-Tooru?” Iwaizumi said harshly. Oikawa blinked at him, body completely still. “Why are you keeping things from me?” 

“What are you talking about?” Oikawa exasperated. “You sound crazy, Iwa-chan.” 

Something bit at his heart and it took all Iwaizumi had not to scream. “You think you’re such a good liar, don’t you? Thinking you have everyone fooled, and you do, for the most part.” Iwaizumi took a step closer. The toe of his uniform shoes brushed against the bare feet of Tooru’s, Iwaizumi could see the shine in his eyes. “But you never had me under your thumb. You think I don’t see how unhappy you are or how impossibly angry you are deep down? I’ve seen what your dad has done to you, I was there that night three years ago, I stopped you from _attacking_ Kageyama, and I’ve seen the fucking _scars,_ Shittykawa! How can you seriously think-” 

A hand pressed against Iwaizumi’s mouth, muffling the words that still stubbornly left his lips. But looking at Oikawa, he saw how wide the boy’s eyes became, how tears rolled down his cheek one by one. “I’ve never thought I had you fooled,” he choked out between the emotion building in his throat. “Never, Iwa, okay?” 

Oikawa removed his hand from his mouth to grip at Iwaizumi’s wrist. He tugged him behind until they were upstairs and settled in Oikawa’s room. “My dad’s sleeping. He’s back from his trip,” Oikawa warned as he sat on the large queen bed, eyes glued on his hands sitting in his lap. 

“I don’t care,” Iwaizumi grunted as he sat across from him. “Fuck your dad, Tooru.” 

Oikawa rolled his eyes, squaring Iwaizumi with angry and puffy eyes. “I don’t want you kicked out, okay?” 

Iwaizumi relented with a huff and he relaxed on the soft bed. Looking up, he saw the glow-in-the-dark stars still plastered all over Oikawa’s ceilings, and he smiled. Nostalgia bit at him from all the sleepovers he spent in this room, he could still hear their laughter ringing throughout the room as they watched movies and played video games until they were scolded by Oikawa’s mom. 

Then, Oikawa spoke, voice raw and barely audible, “Did I seriously make you cry?”

Iwaizumi looked back at him and scoffed. “Not the first time,” he confessed. 

Oikawa’s eyebrows drew together, hand raised towards Iwaizumi, but quickly fell back in his lap. “I’m sorry.” 

Iwaizumi shrugged. “I’m sure I’ve made you cry plenty of times.” 

“Because you’re an asshole, Iwa-chan.” 

“Yeah, Makki already lectured me today on that.” 

Oikawa hummed. “Good. You probably deserved it.”

Really looking at Oikawa, he did. He deserved worse, he deserved for Oikawa to yell and scream at him, not Hanamaki’s scolding. “Look, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi started but the look in Oikawa’s eyes as they snapped to him had the words sticking in his throat. Clearing them away with a cough, Iwaizumi spoke, “I’m sorry. For not checking on you until now and for what I said during our fight while I was wasted.”

“Iwa-chan, I said mean things too. Plus, I’m f-“

“Don’t you _fucking_ say it, Tooru,” Iwaizumi screamed as loud as he could with that scumbag sleeping like a baby down the hall. Before he could comprehend what he was doing, Iwaizumi had gripped the worn alien printed shirt in his fist, jerking Oikawa forward. He paired the fearful chocolate pools with his own blistering green ones. But the longer he held Oikawa there, the more he felt the frustration mutate as it coursed him. 

He felt the fire go out in his eyes. Scared of what the embers told, Iwaizumi let Oikawa go, head dropping. “Don’t say you’re fine.” Iwaizumi croaked. “Stop lying to me.”

A few moments ticked by of unbearable silence until Oikawa slid a hand under Iwaizumi’s chin. He didn’t fight back, not caring about the tears or the snot, how pathetic he looked as his eyes were brought up to Oikawa’s. 

He looked at Oikawa and he looked back with his thumb absentmindedly rubbing just below Iwaizumi’s bottom lip. “H- Iwa-chan, I-“

Iwaizumi shook his head, taking himself from Oikawa’s touch. “I need answers Tooru.” Before Oikawa said anything, Iwaizumi gripped at the blanket wrapped around Oikawa and tore it from the boy’s frail body. 

Oikawa didn’t put up a fight, only dipping his head down. 

And Iwaizumi felt like he was punched in the gut. He could barely make out an inch of unscathed skin. The gashes were grotesque, some irritated and on their way to becoming infected. 

Some looked so fresh as if they were made not even a day ago. 

“Fuck, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi sobbed as he tore himself away, pushing himself onto his feet. He didn’t like giving his back to him, but god he just-

Iwaizumi pressed a hand to his mouth as he felt another sob push it’s way out of his throat. 

“Iwa, just leave it, okay?”

Oikawa was pleading but he didn’t care. He turned slowly, looking down at his best friend, hoping the hurt was poetry on his face. “I have been leaving it. I have been for three years.”

Oikawa visibly stopped breathing. 

“And I _can’t_ anymore,” he exasperated, slouching back on Oikawa’s bed, elbows on his knees and head hanging between them. “Because I know now that this is more than what happened with your mom. The older and healed scars back then had to have been done before she died.” Iwaizumi finally brought his eyes up to Oikawa. “You were just as broken before and I want- _need_ to know why.”

Oikawa let out a sob, forehead falling flush against Iwaizumi’s bicep. Iwaizumi could feel as his tears dripped onto his skin to run down the heated flesh there. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m scared you’re going to hurt them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(((((((
> 
> iwa gonna be real pissed


	10. 9- death blossoms like red roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise that I will let nothing hurt him ever again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS  
> TAKE THEM INTO CONSIDERATION BEFORE CONTINUING  
> THIS IS A WARNING

Iwaizumi stared down at the mop of curls in shock. “I-“

Then Oikawa straightened and the pain made itself home on his face, turning his warm eyes cold and marring his easy smile into a grimace. “You have to promise me that you won’t do something stupid, Iwa-chan.”

Looking at his best friend, the boy that makes Iwaizumi’s life a living hell but at the same time makes it a little bit more worth living, he’d do anything for him. 

He’d give him the universe if he could, gift it to him star by star. 

And that irrational, complete and utter love is what makes Iwaizumi know that he won’t be able to keep that promise. 

_I promise that I will let nothing hurt him again_. 

Eyes fluttering closed, Iwaizumi nodded. Oikawa let out a breath followed by the rustling of his bedding. Looking up at him he was scooted back against his headboard, patting the empty space in front of him. “Come here.”

_I am here_ , he thought dryly but shifted the mere centimeters closer to Oikawa, knees pressed against each other. 

Then Oikawa snatched his calloused hand, his pretty fingers running along Iwaizumi’s, eyes hazy as he stared down at his own digits fluttering and dancing across the skin of Iwaizumi’s hand. “I was twelve.” 

Iwaizumi felt his heart coming to a stuttering stop in his chest. But Oikawa didn’t give it any mind, even when Iwaizumi clutched at his hand. “And he was an upperclassman.” It felt like he was shot in the chest as he connected the words together in his head. He was clutching Oikawa’s pretty hand in his tighter, feeling the bird bones shifting against thin skin. “Pre-teen Tooru, with his eyes still shining with hope and all that’s good in the world, had the fattest and most pathetic crush on this upperclassman. It could’ve been that he was the captain of the team, his tan skin, messy dark hair, I didn’t even know what it was back then. But regardless, when he noticed me, I threw caution to the wind.” 

He took his hand from Oikawa’s. 

Iwaizumi’s head was downcast by then, eyes screwed shut and jaw locked so harshly his molars were grating against one another. There was a storm brewing underneath his skin and he doesn’t know how to make sense of it. So many emotions were swirling inside of him- anger, sadness, guilt, empathy. 

But in almost every circumstance, especially involving Oikawa, he seems to go for that anger, the crazed emotion acting as a hook, baited in just the right way to have Iwaizumi hook, line, and sinker. 

Except this time, it’s different. 

Because as Oikawa’s hand gingerly cupped his cheek, soft skin kissing stubble, and coaxing Iwaizumi’s gaze up to his, the anger wasn’t whisked away like usual. This time, Oikawa couldn’t act as the deterrent to Iwaizumi’s naturally (and well hidden) temperamental nature. 

“Iwa,” Oikawa gasped as he took in what Iwaizumi knew wasn’t a pretty set of eyes. His hand fell from his cheek as if touching Iwaizumi was causing him pain. _Maybe it was._ “Remember the promise,” he said carefully, everything about him hesitant. But even if his body language screamed that he was walking on eggshells, Oikawa’s mahogany gaze paired back the usual lagoon one of Iwaizumi, now made a bright green, with something that isn’t quite distinguishable but that is the farthest from fearful or cautious.

But even though he’s slipping, Iwaizumi nods his head. 

And Oikawa lets out a small and strained breath. “One day, I was complaining to another one of our senpai’s about how my mom yelled at me the night before for my bad grade on my English test. It was a lie, I’m a God at English. So was- was this upperclassman and I was hoping with every fiber of my heart that he would take the bait…” Oikawa trailed off there. Looking up at him, his eyes were glazed and faraway. There was a slight tremble that Iwaizumi didn’t notice until later. He shook his head and continued, “and he did. He took it.”

The way Oikawa’s voice broke on the last word, so acutely and just barely noticeable, had Iwaizumi’s bubbling anger spiraling into full-blown wrath. 

Because Iwaizumi was _there._ He was in that locker room, getting dressed right there to Oikawa’s right, enraged and burning with jealousy that he thought at the time was over the attention his best friend was receiving. 

But looking back it was because of that crush. It was the way Oikawa was so infatuated with him. 

And that right there is making Iwaizumi sick to his fucking stomach because if he’s right in even the smallest way of where this is going-

He will kill him. He will fucking kill Ito Itsuki. 

But Oikawa, completely oblivious to the war waging in Iwaizumi’s head, took in a breath. “He offered to tutor me that Friday after practice and I accepted just _so_ willingly and excited,” he practically ground out between his teeth, a sick laugh following the words. “I was so naive, Iwa-chan. I was even excited about the fact that my parents were gone, and didn't even get slightly suspicious when he said that’s perfect.”

The anger was there in Oikawa’s voice, but it was being overshadowed by the obvious waver, the way he had to suppress a sick gurgle in his throat- a gag. “Do I need to say more?” 

Iwaizumi wanted to say no, didn’t want to force Oikawa to say anything else and relive the nightmare he- but Iwaizumi also wanted to hear _everything._

He felt like he needed to or else his mind would be running itself sick to it, mulling over anything and everything that could have happened to Oikawa that night. 

But he also knows if he hears anymore, things will turn ugly. Still, knowing that, Iwaizumi says, “What if it was the other way around?” Oikawa’s gaze slid up to his, scary and dark. “Would you be okay with just hearing that?”

Even more slow, Oikawa shook his head into a slight left to a slight right. “No and you saying that is making me realize I wouldn’t be able to keep that promise either.”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to say- _lie_ \- and tell him that he intended to keep it, but Oikawa kept talking. “But I wouldn’t have made it. You did and you’ll probably figure out who he i-“

“It’s Itsuki,” Iwaizumi blurted in a growl before he could stop himself. 

Oikawa cursed, that scary expression dropping into the dead one he was sporting earlier. Iwaizumi couldn't decide which one was more jarring. “Remember,” was all Oikawa murmured before he lost himself once again. “It started off normal, just us going over my homework and notes. Until I noticed he was inching himself closer and closer. His leg was pressed up against mine when- shit, when I realized just what could be happening. But I told myself that’s irrational, delusional even. Why would an upperclassman be _into me_? What makes me so special to have earned his _precious_ attention? But then his hand was on my thigh.”

Vomit was pushing itself into Iwaizumi’s throat dizzyingly, searing hot against the muscles of his esophagus. He fisted Oikawa’s bedding as he choked it down. He looked down at his bent knees as a look of wrongful worry blossomed on Oikawa’s face. “Iwa-chan, are you okay?”

Iwaizumi shook his head before grunting, “Not ab- about me. Just keep going before- before I lose my mind.”

Oikawa nodded, Adam’s apple working around a hard and nervous swallow that Iwaizumi could hear. “I asked him what he was doing and like a flip was switched he slammed me down, hand wrapped around my throat with just enough pressure to keep me still. I was- I was so scared, Iwa. I just- _God_ , I was so helpless. All I could do was just close my eyes and cry. I didn’t even beg for him to stop, I didn’t say a damn word.”

“Tooru-“

“Not even when he flipped me over-“

_Stop._

“And leaned over and whispered so many things in my ear, calling me a whore and pathetic.”

_Please, just…_

“I didn’t even say anything when he pulled my pants down, when he bit up my thighs to ultimately sink his fucking teeth into my ass. I just kept crying and shaking.”

Iwaizumi felt like everything inside him was shattering, obliterating completely. 

But it was all he could do to sit there and listen.

Even if it’s tearing him apart and setting those scattered pieces of him on fire. 

Because he _needs_ this, even if he knows that when Oikawa is finished and what happened and how oblivious and stupid he was will settle in, deep and scarring.

He needs to know and he knows that Oikawa needs him to know too, because this isn’t something a person can just keep to themself. This isn’t some dirt that can be swept under the rug or simply buried. 

Because this is what is killing Oikawa and rotting him from the inside out and Iwaizumi _knows_ , okay? He fucking _knows_ that if Oikawa kept it in any longer, if he let it fester for another goddamn year, he’d- he might-

Iwaizumi felt himself deflate. His hands released the death grip they had on the blanket, his face fell from its pinched and strained expression, his shoulders slumped, and Iwaizumi fell into quiet tears. “You’re right,” he choked out between labored breaths. His muscles were jolting, jumping underneath his skin. “I- I don’t think I’ll be able to keep that promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry but this was planned since the beginning
> 
> continued in next chap...


	11. 10- pain spreads like weeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That’s what pillars do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait and how short this chap is :(

_ That night _

Iwaizumi was watching a game of volleyball with his elder brother, animatedly screaming at the TV when his phone went wild where it was thrown on the carpet in his excitement. 

“Answer it twerp,” Haruki said, chuckling as Iwaizumi begrudgingly trudged towards the device. 

Flicking open the flip phone, his eyes zeroed in on Oikawa’s contact name, tagged with a low-quality I.D. photo of the brunette smiling, his cheek squished against Iwaizumi’s own, his irritance making home in the form of a heated glare and sneer. 

Fuckface loves that stupid picture. 

Anger swirling in his stomach hotly, Iwaizumi answered it with a growl. “What is it, Stupidkawa? Volleyba-“

A sharp breath broke on the other boy’s receiver. 

At the sound of a heavy and broken sob, the floor was swept from beneath Iwaizumi’s feet. The anger was flaring dangerously, buzzing his skin and jumping his muscles. 

Oikawa had that stupid upperclassman Ito over tonight, why would he be crying? 

What did he  _ do _ ? 

“Tooru, what’s wrong?” Iwaizumi said slowly, voice low. At the tone, Haruki’s shit eating smile dissolved into one of worry as he paused the game and wordlessly left the living room, walking the short distance to his bedroom. 

Oikawa didn’t say anything. Only the sound of rapid breathing could be heard on the other end, the sound of Iwaizumi’s best friend falling apart. “What happened?” He pushed as gently as he could. 

But God, it’s becoming so hard to keep his own emotions from spiking. He just keeps telling himself that Oikawa needs him to be strong. 

Oikawa needs him right now. 

“Haj-“ Oikawa choked before falling into sobbing, pure lamenting in the space around him and directly into Iwaizumi’s ear. But he’s so far away. He's too far away and Iwaizumi was so helpless that it’s making him go crazy. 

“Iwa,” Oikawa finally gasped. “Could you come over?”

Iwaizumi snorted through the gurgle of emotions accumulating in his throat stickily. “I’ll be there.”

“Hurry.” 

And the line clicked. 

Snapping his phone shut, Iwaizumi had to sit there for a moment. 

Just to process, to think about what the fuck just happened. 

The soft padding of his mom’s feet against the carpet echoed in Iwaizumi’s ears. “Car’s running, baby.”

He nodded, muttering a soft, “okay.”

He felt too young. 

As he numbly walked across the grass and slid into the passenger seat, feeling the car humming beneath him, Iwaizumi felt like a ghost. 

He doesn’t get why he feels this way. 

Of course, looking back he does. Especially knowing what will transpire in the next thirty minutes. 

But in that moment, barely twelve years old and wondering why his best friend sounds like he’s dying, Iwaizumi never felt so lost before or after that. 

The entire drive to Oikawa’s house, all the words that left his mom’s mouth were warbled and muffled in his ears. All he could do was nod along, humming here and there. 

But out of the entire fog of that late night drive, Iwaizumi remembers crystal clear the way his mom cupped his cheek, how she brushed a stray strand of hair. “Hajime, call me when you get inside,” she whispered. “Tell me if he’s okay, okay?”

Iwaizumi nodded, sniffling, and she kissed his forehead. Her eyes were bright as she rested back in the seat. “Love you,” he said as he pushed open the car door and stood on shaky feet. 

She didn’t drive away until Iwaizumi let himself in the dark house. 

Knowing the house almost better than his own, Iwaizumi walked blindly through the entryway, focusing on the way his feet slapped the marble instead of how ballistic his heart was going in his chest. 

Making his way up the stairs step by step, all he heard was the creaking. The house was completely silent and that’s when the fear began to settle in. 

Situations flashed behind his head, a pictureshow of horror. They were bright and flashing behind his eyes by the time he was outside the bedroom door. 

He would usually just burst in, but the fear of what could be on the other side was plaguing his irrational and young mind to the point he was rooted to the spot. 

“Tooru?” Iwaizumi finally called out through the door. “Can I come in?”

The sound of feet slapping the floor on the other side almost had Iwaizumi’s knees buckling in relief. 

Oikawa was opening the door slowly,  _ too  _ slowly. It was about an inch open when Iwaizumi shoved his way through, barreling into his friend. 

He smelled of soap and salt as Iwaizumi pulled him against his chest. Burying his face into Oikawa’s neck, Iwaizumi just had to focus on the in and out of breathing. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathed, voice just barely above a whisper. “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

Iwaizumi could only shake his head against Oikawa’s skin. “Shut up, Shittykawa.”

“I-“

“What happened?” Iwaizumi demanded, finally stepping back to look at Oikawa in the darkness of his bedroom. 

Iwaizumi watched him shrink at the question. Big eyes falling to the floor, Oikawa balled his hands into fists. “I can’t tell you,” he finally said after what felt like years of silence. 

And Iwaizumi reeled, feet tripping over the other as he stumbled back. “What?”

Oikawa took a step forward, hand reaching out, but Iwaizumi didn’t want him touching him right then. He didn’t want Oikawa near him. 

He stepped back until his back was against the door. Oikawa’s feet stopped short when he realized. “Iwa-chan, please just trust me that-“

Iwaizumi, at the time, didn’t hear the break in Oikawa’s voice. 

Iwaizumi, at the time, didn’t see the bruises lining pale arms in blackberry blossoms. 

Iwaizumi, at the time, didn’t understand why Oikawa fell apart then. He didn’t understand the wailing that left his best friend’s mouth as he crashed to his knees with a sick crunch of bone. 

All Iwaizumi understood to do was to crawl his way to Oikawa and take the boy that was supposed to be bigger than him into his arms.

He let Oikawa fist his shirt and scream into his chest, the boy that was supposed to be better and happier than him. 

But he understood why he himself started to cry. Softly, he fell apart as he buried his face into chestnut curls and held Oikawa even tighter to himself. 

Because he was too young and confused and lost. 

And the only thing that he loves, the only thing that gave him any sort of purpose shattered like a baseball bat to glass in his arms. 

Iwaizumi told himself that he’s fine not knowing, he’ll just keep doing this. He will let Oikawa scream into his skin, he’ll hold him through all bad weather, if they can both get up the next day and appreciate the sun coming in through the window. 

He would bare it all no matter the cause, no matter how superficial. 

Because he’d die, kill, do anything for Oikawa Tooru. 

That includes tearing himself apart trying to piece him back together. 

That’s what pillars do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is finally somewhat fully planned out and for what i want to do, its not going to be short. Also, if you noticed, the happy ending tag has been deleted. And i’m renaming all the chapters as this will be far too long to keep up the little poem thing i had going on. 
> 
> Take all that as you will. 
> 
> Lastly, i just want to thank those who have been here chapter to chapter and commenting. It’s sosososo appreciated and each comment makes writing this stupidly sad thing all the more worth it 
> 
> See you in the next chapter <3


	12. 11- crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi felt like the pain blooming like roses all over his body was liberating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i hate this chap like posting this makes me feel sick to my stomach but its been a long time so- enjoy ig

“You invited me over that night,” Iwaizumi finally huffed after the minute of silence. “After you were _ra_ -” 

“Don’t-” 

And the wrath that was remaining dormant in Iwaizumi’s stomach exploded. “Don’t _what_ , Tooru? Say it? What are you trying to hide, or fucking _protect_ , huh?” He’s screaming, yelling. Fisting the bedding on either side of his knee, he could only flinch as Oikawa looked at him with a look of pure devastation, the pain making poetry in his eyes like he had no tears left to cry. 

“Iwaizumi, _please_ just calm down,” the taller of the two said quietly, carefully. 

And Iwaizumi needed to, but he didn't _want_ to and nor could he. All he can see behind his eyes is the image of Oikawa, not ripped of everything just yet, pinned down to the polished hardwood of his living room. 

Iwaizumi knew his best friend didn’t scream, but he could hear small pleads muffled into stale air and non-caring ears. He could hear the quiet bubbles of sobs popping in Oikawa Tooru’s chest as Ito shimmied his pants off. 

He imagined that all sounds stopped completely as that disgusting bastard’s hands bit into his hips or his waist or his thighs, or when he _bit_ him. 

“Do you understand what it is that you just told me?” Iwaizumi practically growled. “Tooru, you just told me you were _raped_ and now you’re telling me to _calm down_.” But as that sentence tumbled from his lips, Oikawa’s door was thrown open and a hand was on the collar of Iwaizumi’s uniform shirt. The man yanking him from the bed, Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa lurched forward, hands outstretched and mouth open in a yell. 

“I’ve told you a long time ago,” the man roughed as he drug Iwaizumi’s thrashing and yelling body out of Oikawa’s bedroom and into the cold hall, “that you’re not _welcome here._ ” 

Iwaizumi barely had time to react before he was pulled onto his feet and pushed forward down the stairs. He knows that if he didn’t know them as well as he did, he would have fell down them and probably broken a few bones on the mahogany. 

Oikawa was still yelling, running after the two of them. Iwaizumi watched with a stuttering mind as his dad quickly reached around, laying a hard backhand across his son’s cheek. 

It bloomed a pretty red on pale skin. 

He leaned close to his son’s hard face, mouth flying open and closed, forming harsh words. Iwaizumi couldn’t hear any of it. 

His ears were rushing water as his skin buzzed alive, the pain from being thrown and husked around like a guinea sack only a dull pressure in his muscles. 

He was moving before he knew he was. 

Hand gripping the meaty shoulder of Oikawa’s father, Iwaizumi was pulling the monster to face him. For the second time in his life, Iwaizumi’s fist collided with rough skin and bone. 

With pain and crunching resonating in now bleeding knuckles, Iwaizumi couldn’t help the sick smile at the sight of blood coating that dickhead’s chin and spat on the smooth marble. 

For a split moment, Iwaizumi wondered how much blood had been spilled on these floors and to what extent have these walls seen. 

But alas and very much what he prepared for as he let his arm cock and fly, Oikawa’s father was fisting his uniform shirt before Iwaizumi could really think about it any further. 

Iwaizumi didn’t even have time to react or think before he was pulled forward to be thrown back by a force against his temple, the obvious punch sending him flying against the wall. 

Vision blacking out, Iwaizumi’s hearing came back with a piercing ringing and the sound of his best friend screaming. 

It wasn’t until his shirt was being gripped once again and hoisting him in the air that his vision cleared, somewhat. 

Through blurry and swimming eyes, he made out a face purple with anger. 

He could make out the words the man was spitting unto him. “You really don’t learn, huh?” Iwaizumi’s silence must have furthered the man’s anger as he laid another fist against his face, this time the side of his mouth. 

His head jarred to the side with a sick cough, the clots of blood welled up in his mouth to be hacked up into the floor. 

And the fucker was still talking. “How many times do I have to throw you out for you to get the _fucking_ message? I don’t give a shit about the past. You’re only holding Tooru back, you pathetic-“

“Bah-stard,” Iwaizuki choked out stubbornly, cutting him off mid-sentence. Zeroing a look on Oikawa’s father, Iwaizumi smiled a sick grin- all bloody teeth and humorless eyes. “I’ll never fucking stop as long as he’s here with you. Hit me as much as you like, nothing will keep me away from your son- nothing will stop me from trying to protect him from _you_ ,” Iwaizumi ground out, topping it off with spitting some blood on his chest. 

He didn’t say anything. Face hard and unreadable, the monster pushed himself onto steady feet. Iwaizumi looked up at the one person Oikawa cowered under and prepared himself.

He just couldn’t look at the mess that is Oikawa behind his own dad, he couldn’t heed the broken and dry sobs any mind. 

But that was the hardest thing to do when: “Hah-Hajime, _please._ Please just _go_.”

And the world stilled. 

Even as the bastard gripped his bicep and wrenched the front door open, Iwaizumi didn’t make any move to fight back. 

As his eyes took in Oikawa, Iwaizumi fell limp as he was drug across the door. 

Thrown onto the front lawn, Iwaizumi felt himself break. 

As he fell into hysterics with blood pouring from his nose and the corner of his mouth in two crimson twin rivers, Iwaizumi felt like the pain blooming like roses all over his body was liberating. 

  
  
  
  
  


His mom screamed when he stumbled through the door and fell against the table, knocking it over and falling to the floor in a crash. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” he heard Haruki scream through muffled ears, quickly followed by stumbled feet. 

But he couldn’t care, not enough anyway. 

Everything was swimming. 

All he can see is dead chocolate eyes and shaking limbs. Oikawa’s words were echoing in his head and he thinks it’s going to drive him sick. 

He saw bite marks making up small and quivering thighs, bruises tarnishing porcelain skin, blood running down legs. 

All the while he was completely oblivious. 

“Baby,” his mom said as softly as she could muster with her voice shaking so badly. “Baby, what happened?”

He hissed as she pressed a frozen bag of vegetables against the side of his face.

Iwaizumi didn’t know if the hot tears spilling over his cheeks were of pain or devastation.

“Hajis, baby, are you okay?” 

And that was enough to make the origin of the tears clear. As his mom’s words soaked into his skin, sobs ripped his chest apart. He felt the dried blood crack and pull at his cheeks and chin as his jaw dropped and he began to _wail_.

The only way Iwaizumi could describe this as is Hell. 

Pure, fucking Hell as his body tore itself apart in his mother’s arms. 


	13. 12- promises crumble to dust and there's nothing left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time slipped away and Iwaizumi just wanted to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first arc is comin up fast :(  
> I'm not ready omg pls
> 
> also, this all a good 42 pages already (at 10 pt font) I still remember finishing what's the prologue and thinking about making it into a fic THIS SAD POS HAS COME SO FAR im so :')

The numbers were blurring together on the whiteboard, the sensei’s words marred as they filtered through Iwaizumi’s non-listening ears. 

He didn’t even register the bell rang until a hand gently gripped his shoulder. Turning on whoever it is, Iwaizumi’s usual “bitchy face”, as Oikawa always called it, melted at the sight of bright eyes and glossed lips. 

“Iwaizumi-san, are you all right?” 

_Why would you care after what I did to you?_

With a long sigh, Iwaizumi pushed himself out of his desk. Throwing his book bag over his shoulder, Iwaizumi looked down at her as impassively as he could. “I’m fine, Mei. And I told you, Hajime is fi-“

“You’re a dumb oaf,” she huffed as she rounded him and walked towards the door. “Your face is all messed up and you’re seriously thinking you can convince me it’s all good?” She looked back at him impatiently when he didn’t follow, a manicured hand perched on her hip. 

Iwaizumi forgot about the black eye and the split lip, how the left side of his jaw is swollen. “I got into a fight with Haruki, it’s all good now.”

She didn’t look convinced, but dropped it anyway. “C’mon, have lunch with me,” she practically demanded, hand outstretched towards him. “I noticed you spent it alone yesterday.”

Something foul stirred in Iwaizumi’s gut as he took her hand. “It’s okay,” he mumbled. 

Mei only smiled at him with her white teeth and weirdly sharp canines, pink cheeks. “I’m bored of my friends anyway.”

No more words were exchanged until Mei pulled him down on a table outside. Iwaizumi felt empty as he watched Mei place a bento box in front of herself with a happy hum. “So tell me, Hajime,” she began but Iwaizumi couldn’t care to listen. 

Not with him sitting not even a few feet away, staring at Iwaizumi with this weird look on his face. 

Makki is glaring at him, _shit._

Fingers snapping in front of his face, Iwaizumi forced his attention on the fiery female in front of him. “Seriously, what’s going on with you and Tooru-chan?”

Iwaizumi could only blink dumbly at her before distracting himself with digging out his own lunch his mom shoved into his bag. Ripping open a bag of chips, Iwaizumi said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mei. We’re fine.”

Mei scoffed before popping a strawberry in her mouth. “I think you’re forgetting something important considering Tooru and I, Hajime.”

 _That you’re both fucking insufferable brats sometimes?_

“What is that?”

Mei rolled her eyes at his tone. “We’re neighbors. I live across from him.”

“So?” Then as she aimed a look at him, one of _knowing_ , the floor slipped from beneath Iwaizumi. 

Must have noticed the panic taking over Iwaizumi’s face, she quickly rose to sit next to him, forcing his face on hers. “Hey, it’s okay. I was just worried, you don’t have to tell me anything- that I’m already not aware of, that is.”

But that statement kind of pulled Iwaizumi out of panic and more into suspicion. “What do you mean?” He asked with narrowed eyes. 

Mei shrugged and leaned over to drag her lunch and bottle of water to herself. “I dunno,” she sang with a weird grin. “You don’t think I’m an idiot, do you?” Her usual sweet voice took on something dark and Iwaizimi was reminded just how alike her and Shittykawa are- even down to the duality.

Iwaizumi, taken slightly aback, stared at her with an open mouth before falling into a bout of humorless cackles. _Scary, she’s fucking_ **_scary_** **.** “Just tell me what you’re getting at before I go nuts.”

“You rejected me like that for a reason, am I wrong?” Iwaizumi slowly shook his head, still very confused. Why wouldn’t he have a reason? He isn’t a psychopath. “Most people wouldn’t go that far and then just out of the blue say ‘yeah, I can’t’, y’know? So, I was thinking-“

“Oh, God-“

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped, laying a slight slap to Iwaizumi’s chest. “Let me finish, stupid. I think that reason isn’t that you just didn’t like me or I didn’t _satisfy_ you enough or something. I think that reason has something to do with Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi blinked one, two, three times. 

Mei took one look at Iwaizumi's expression and continued with an irritated groan. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” 

Iwaizumi couldn’t stop himself from casting a look towards Oikawa. Oikawa with his head down on the cement of the table, face blank and expressionless as he nodded along to whatever Matsu and Makki were fighting about. He looked dead. 

An empty feeling spread through Iwaizumi, numbing him out like Novocaine. 

Looking back at Mei, he let his forehead fall against a frail shoulder. Dismissing her sound of shock, he whispered, barely audible, “I don’t want to talk about him, Mei.” 

“Why did his dad do that to you, Hajime?” She pressed gently, in that snake way of hers that could get anyone to spill anything. 

“It wasn’t the first time,” he said against flower scented skin. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Can you just forget about it?” 

“No, but I can pretend.” Her hand began to gently rub at his back, lips laying a sweet kiss at his temple. 

Time slipped away and Iwaizumi just wanted sleep. 

  
  
  
  


Entering the locker room, all eyes swept to him. 

Some were just curious, while others were narrowed and accusatory. Makki looked murderous. 

Dropping his eyes, Iwaizumi made his way to his locker and threw his bag into it much too aggressively than necessary. He quickly changed into his uniform and walked out fast, hunched under the looks. 

He ignored Yahaba’s call out to him and slammed the door behind him. 

But all he was greeted with on the other side was the sight of a very pissed off Oikawa, laying harsh serve upon serve on the other side of the net.

Iwaizumi was surprised the floor wasn’t dented or the balls weren’t shredded and deflated. 

He guesses this might be the worst practice of his life. 

Coach Irihata had them play a practice game right off the bat and Iwaizimi felt like the universe was laughing at him as he moved to stand at Oikawa’s right. 

Strike after strike was poorly executed. 

Each one of Oikawa’s serves were fast and angry, and all out of bounds. 

Iwaizumi felt frustrated enough to cry, to snap. 

But even as Oikawa grabbed his bicep and pulled him into the empty locker room, Iwaizumi didn’t fight it. 

He didn’t flinch either when Oikawa, with tears running down his cheeks, threw him up against the lockers. “What are you doing, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi coughed, jarred slightly from the force taken out on his ribs. “Pulled me in here to beat the shit out of me?”

“No,” the setter huffed. Tears were still silently rolling down his cheeks. His eyes weren’t angry as they looked into Iwaizumi’s own. “I honestly don’t even know what I’m doing right now.”

Iwaizumi knew he was going to say more so he kept his mouth shut from where he was still leaning against the cool metal of the lockers, staring up at a close to breakdown Oikawa. 

Iwaizumi thinks he should be scared. 

He’s witnessed the danger of Oikawa Tooru at his breaking point, he knows how the other makes sure all that’s in the way will break with him. 

Maybe he doesn’t care if Oikawa breaks him, maybe he already has whether or not he meant to. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Oikawa finally asked, voice alien and small. 

And Iwaizumi about laughed. “I’m not _avoiding_ you, Shittykawa. I took the fucking hint,” he growled out as he pushed himself off the locker. “I called you, what- ten times that morning? I don’t even know how many texts I sent!” With each word that left Iwaizumi, he felt his volume rise. “I even sent you a message over our goddamn discord, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi screamed, embellishing it with a swift punch to the locker. 

He stared at the dent, the wounds on his knuckles reopened, the skin searing hot as fresh blood clotted and dripped. Iwaizumi slowly lowered himself to the ground, eyes falling shut. 

Knowing his luck that was probably Makki’s locker, which will just add to the hate fire. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said softly down to him. “It- I couldn’t bring myself to look at you.”

Iwaizumi scoffed, the sound wet as it bubbled in his throat. “ _You_ couldn’t look at _me_? That’s rich.”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“Do you have any idea what’s been running through my head, Oikawa? I haven’t properly slept in two days, I can’t eat-“

“My dad beat the shit out of you,” Oikawa growled out but Iwaizumi wasn’t having it. 

“Yeah, _again_. And probably not for the last time. If I didn’t want him kicking my shit in, I wouldn’t have done what I did.”

The silence that ensued manifested in some sort of pressure to push down on Iwaizumi’s chest. 

Opening his eyes, all the breath left him as he took in Oikawa sitting on the bench in front of him with his elbows on his knees. Head lowered, chestnut curls were covering his eyes and Iwaizumi felt grateful. 

Then, Oikawa spoke, “And why did you do what you did, huh?” Raising his head slightly, a pair of bloodshot and tired eyes pierced Iwaizumi straight to the heart and had him thinking: _what the hell did I do?_

He opened his mouth to answer, to say anything, but he honestly didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know why.” 

“Really?” Oikawa rasped and a burn appeared in Iwaizumi’s eyes. 

“I honestly don’t know why I do any of the things that I do when it comes to you.”

_It’s because I love you._

“What kind of things?” 

The question sounded painful for him to ask and Iwaizumi felt tired as he opened his mouth to form any kind of response. “Christ, Oikawa- I _dunno_ , okay?” 

“Why do you insist on protecting me, Iwaizumi?”

And then and there, the burn in his eyes grew too much and he shoved his head in his hands. The tears were hot as they beaded in his tear ducts but cold as they dripped onto his calloused palms. “I don’t _know_!”

“You do-“ Oikawa’s words cut short when Iwaizumi looked at him. 

“What answer are you looking for, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked in as level a voice as possible. “What in the hell do you want from me?”

He watched with a stuttering heart as Oikawa rose onto a pair of shaky feet, wobbly as he stood. “Go get some sleep, Iwa-chan,” he finally rasped. 

Iwaizumi didn’t have a chance to say anything before the door was being slammed shut, leaving him to cry silently to the dirty cement flooring between his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update should be coming tomorrow or possibly tonight !!


	14. 13- an end brings new beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then, with a soft quivering voice, “Yeah?” 

A year had passed and Iwaizumi wishes he could say anything- as in any little fucking thing- has changed. 

But every day passes by in a numb blurb. 

Wake up, brush his teeth, nibble on something for breakfast, go to school and waste away 10 hours, go home to eat dinner and sleep. 

It’s a never ending cycle and Iwaizumi can’t even find it within himself to give a shit. 

Hell, he doesn’t find enjoyment in playing volleyball anymore. The part within his chest that would shudder and shake as he hit one of Oikawa’s spikes became a feeling lost somewhere in the dull vibrations of nothingness. 

And Oikawa-

Iwaizumi can’t remember the last time they’ve done anything together or had a conversation. 

Sometimes, he can’t remember his smile- his  _ real  _ one. He can’t picture the way his front teeth rested above or overlapped perfect or slightly broken and crooked bottom teeth. He forgot how the corners would spread and push up his cheeks, squinting bright eyes in just the slightest and most adoring way. 

He often found himself looking at old pictures of the two of them just to  _ feel  _ the wondrous way Oikawa used to make him feel late at night, sometimes to even just remind himself of the boy he didn’t quite lose, but that stands just a hair out of arm's length. 

And sometimes, when he realized all that he could have done differently and taken for granted, just a singular tear would try and well in his eyes. 

But Iwaizumi would lock his phone and go to sleep. He’d push the feelings he unearthed right back into that lonely and locked box somewhere at the bottom of his guts, even if he knows he’s going to unlock it with a shaky fist the next night. 

“Iwa,” Matsukawa called out as he waved an elegant hand in front of Iwaizumi’s face. “Earth to I-“

Iwaizimi caught him by the wrist with the roll of his eyes before gently nudging the appendage towards it’s shocked host. “What?”

Matsu cleared his throat, awkwardly shuffling his volleyball shoe clad feet beneath him. “You were gone for a while. Seeing if your head’s clear.”

“Hmm, m’ fine,” Iwaizumi dismissed. 

“This match is a big deal, you know that.”

“Yes, Matsu.”

“Like this is our last shot-“

Iwaizumi turned on his unsuspecting friend before he could stop himself. “Look,  _ bro. _ Can you just get the fuck off my back? You should be more concerned over Prince Charming over there, you know.”

Matsu’s usually disinterested eyes drifted over to his captain, the orbs tired and sad as they watched the setter tear himself apart. “He won’t let anyone,” Matsu began. Sad eyes now honed on Iwaizumi, he finished, “but you.”

It was all Iwaizumi could do to sigh and look back forward. He watched Kageyama stretch while ignoring the firefly of a boy next to him who should be tired from their last set but just  _ isn’t _ , and something warm bloomed in his chest. As right before his eyes, a fond, hidden smile grew on the once mean and lonely setter’s face at his spiker’s incessant and obviously adorable blabbering. 

He squashed it out as soon as he felt Oikawa’s eyes drilling into the side of his head. Turning towards Matsu with a poorly contained scowl, Iwaizumi muttered, “Things aren’t that simple anymore.”

“I know,” Matsu said and they began their stretches. 

  
  
  
  


Iwaizumi can’t say he was shocked when his eyes shot to the final scores at the ref’s sharp whistle. 

He can’t say he was surprised at the burning in his eyes or that he wasn’t expecting them to well and overflow the banks. 

However, he can say the most shell-shocking thing that transpired that evening was the familiar feeling of delicate and long fingers against him as Oikawa Tooru laid a harsh yet weirdly careful slap at Iwaizumi’s back, right between two tense shoulder blades. 

To anyone else, it looked like two teammates sharing their loss. 

But to anyone that knows them, it was earth shattering. 

Maybe it was that Iwaizumi feels like they haven’t spoken to one another, like actually  _ spoken _ , in ages or that he forgot how Oikawa touches him like a footprint in the sand only to be washed away, never to be molded forever, he can't really know, but either way Oikawa's actions had his stuttering steps ceasing completely.

He thinks if it wasn’t for Makki and Matsu’s arms wrapping around him and Yahaba’s broken and crying face in front of him, he would be a heap on the ground. 

After they gathered themselves and lined up for their bows, Iwaizumi snuck a look at Tooru just before they bent at the waist. The orbs of molten chocolate looked like a broken mirror as they peered ahead, zeroing straight at the boy he always knew would be his downfall. Maybe if he can’t feel it and Kageyama can’t see it, Iwaizumi _can_ _._ He can the pride and the pain clear as day as they swirled inside those eyes, making a hurricane that Tooru will no doubt bend underneath. Even if he’s acting strong right now, accepting the fate of his loss with as much of a smile as he could muster, Iwaizumi  _ knows  _ that as soon as he breaks through the door of his bedroom he’ll shatter. 

But Iwaizumi also knows that after all the pieces are littering the ground of his bedroom, Oikawa will bend down and gather all those daggers and pieces into his arms, he’ll let them slice him open as he slowly puts himself back together. 

Staring at the laces of his volleyball shoes, preparing for this being the last time he’ll ever feel them about his feet, Iwaizumi tries to remember exactly what brought about the division between him and his once best friend. When nothing significant or rational came to his mind, Iwaizumi fisted his shorts and cursed himself, then he called out to the retreating back of his friend, “Yo! Shittykawa.” 

He stopped but didn’t turn and Iwaizumi tried to hold onto the moths in his stomach. Then, with a soft quivering voice, “Yeah?” 

Iwaizumi with a breath and a smile, ran up to the taller, purposely bumping his shoulder against his. “My mom misses you, you know,” Iwaizumi started awkwardly. He heard Matsu and Makki snickering behind them. Iwaizumi could punch them. “So if you…” 

“Sure,” he chirped. 

“Huh?”  Turning towards Iwaizumi, one of his authentic Tooru smiles was playing on a pair of pink lips, the one that never failed to punch Iwaizumi right in the gut. “Yes, Iwa-chan. I said,  _ yes _ .”


	15. 14- you wont know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someday, even if it’s when I’m on my deathbed, I’ll tell you, Hajime. It’s a promise

Iwaizumi was prepared for a reaction from his mom, but her dropping a bottle of sake to shatter against the floor of the living room at that sight of Oikawa didn’t seem likely until it happened. 

Iwaizumi wishes she was drunk, it’d be easier to explain. 

“Jesus, mom,” Iwaizumi groaned before toeing off his shoes and throwing his bag on the floor. “He’s not like a- um-“ Oikawa and his mom both raised an eyebrow at him. “Whatever,” he huffed with warm cheeks. “I’ll get the broom.”

As soon as he stepped out of the room, the two immediately began talking in high and rushed voices. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and practically ripped open the closet door. 

Why did he invite Oikawa over exactly?

To try and fix things, yeah. But how is he going to go about doing that? 

They always just pretended like nothing ever happened and the moment was lost in time seemingly. 

It’s different this time and Iwaizumi doesn’t really know what to do. 

Walking back, he heard something that had him stopping. 

“What happened between you and Hajime?” His mom asked, voice low and awkward. 

“He didn’t tell you anything?” Oikawa sounded like he was about to puke. 

“Of course not, you know how he is.”

“Yeah, I guess. Um- Iwa-chan said he just needed a break for a while.” 

“That doesn’t sou-“

Not being able to take it anymore, Iwaizumi stomped through the rest of the hallway and across the open concept of the kitchen and living room. He jerked the broom in his mom’s face with a forced smile. “Sorry to interrupt. Here’s the broom.” She took it with a ginger hand and Iwaizumi gripped at Oikawa’s wrist without thinking. The other stiffened under his touch and Iwaizumi felt like his hand was wrapped around a hot coal. “Now, if you’ll excuse us-“

“Hajime,” his mom began, stopping him mid-turn. “I’m sorry to hear about the game. You two played hard, that’s all that-“

“How would you know? You weren’t there,” Iwaizumi ground out.

“Baby, I have to work, you know I’d be there if…”

But now it was Oikawa tugging him towards the hall. “Harui, it’s okay. He knows, I assure you.”

Iwaizumi didn’t have time to say anything or rebuke what Oikawa felt _obliged_ to say before the taller boy already yanked him down the hall and forcefully shoved him into his room. “Get a grip on yourself, what in the hell was that?” 

Iwaizumi scoffed and squared Oikawa with a harsh look. “I’m- Look, I don’t know,” he dismissed, but then, “Is that really the reason why you think I distanced myself? Because I needed a _break?_ "

“If it is?”

Iwaizumi didn’t miss the waver in Oikawa’s voice. “You don’t. If that is what you thought, you would have hunted me down ages ago and lectured me for being irrational. Instead, you distanced yourself too.”

Oikawa’s eyes became shiny as he dropped down on Iwaizumi’s bed with a sigh. “I did what I did because after our fight in the locker room, I drew the conclusion that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.”

_'What answer do you want from me, Oikawa?'_

Iwaizumi felt his eyes squeeze shut as memories of his own voice played in his head. 

_'What in the hell do you want from me?'_

“Well, that’s what I told myself then. But when I got home, I realized it was a bit deeper than that. Watching you sitting on the ground and trying your damnest to hide that you’re crying, I finally saw that I was tearing you apart.” Iwaizumi’s eyes snapped open to see that Oikawa was now sitting up on the bed, staring up at him with a face that read something in between determination and anger. “So, I thought cutting it off would save you.”

“Save me from _what?_ "

“From me, Iwa-chan. Save _you_ from _me_ because you have it so ingrained in your head that I’m fixable, that you can somehow liberate me from what’s my life. It’s going to drive you into an early grave,” Oikawa rushed, words slurred together in his tongue’s haste. 

And Iwaizumi just stared at him before falling against his door and dropping to the ground. “You’re not wrong,” he barely managed to choke out. “But what changed your mind? Was it that nothing changed in the months you didn’t speak to me?”

“Iwa-“

“Do you seriously think disappearing fixed things? Not knowing what was going on with you or not being able to just be there in the most superficial of ways drove me absolutely batshit, Tooru.” Iwaizumi stood up with a sick laugh. “Of course watching you kill yourself was tearing me apart, but you ' _cutting it off_ ’ didn’t stop me from seeing you do it, it just made feel all the more helpless." Iwaizumi rounded on the taller boy, leaning over him until his back was scooted against the wall. He regretted it as soon as he opened his mouth. “The sweating smeared your foundation, you know. Oh, and you cut a little below the hem of your shorts, fyi. And don’t think I didn’t see how your ribs and hip bones are sticking out of your skin.”

He ignored the shine to Oikawa eyes. He didn't give attention to the way all the muscles that were once tense relaxed all at once.

“Iwa-“

“I’m so _tired,_ Tooru.”

“ _Iwa,_ ” Oikawa said again, large hand cupping Iwaizumi’s cheek. “You’re crying.”

He just then felt the burn spread throughout his throat and his eyes, the way his eyelashes were webbing together as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Simply and quietly, Iwaizumi melted against Oikawa, letting the boy take him into his arms. 

They laid like that. Not for a long time, but for a while. At least until Iwaizumi clawed his way out and shimmied out of the embarrassing position Oikawa held them in. “Sorry,” he grunted and the brunette laughed. 

The pretty bell-like sound melted into something dead and scary. Iwaizumi watched from the corner of his eye as Oikawa’s expression went far away. “You leaving didn’t help me either, Iwa-chan.”

“I-”

“No,” Oikawa whispered quickly. “You don’t know.” 

Iwaizumi laid there in silence, basking in the way his heart was ramming into his ribs and resonated in his ears. Swallowing around the muscle, he rasped, “then tell me.” 

Oikawa opened and closed his mouth a few good times. “I can’t.” The sound was soft, an angel's kiss to be muttered in the dark space, stained by the night, of Iwaizumi's bedroom. 

He had to lay there for a few moments, to allow for the words to burrow under his skin. “Why?” 

Oikawa shifted, now laying on his side. Feeling the intense orbs searing the flesh of his cheeks, Iwaizumi flicked his gaze over and practically choked on his spit. 

Those molten eyes looked to be on fire as they looked at him, like Oikawa was seeing Iwaizumi as a goal to be met. 

The next words that came from his mouth was whispered at the same volume as before, but this time, like there were embers placed underneath, they were just as ablaze as his eyes. The fire of them had sparks shooting down Iwaizumi’s spine.

“Someday, even if it’s when I’m on my deathbed, I’ll tell you, Hajime. It’s a promise.” 

Iwaizumi should have heard the warning in that declaration, should have seen what that promise could possibly entail. However, instead, Iwaizumi just nodded a pathetic ‘okay’ and simply rested his forehead against the chest of Oikawa Tooru and slept the best he had in months.


	16. 15- liquid courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you apologizing for, Tooru?”
> 
> “For everything,” he blurted in a squeak. “Just- everything.”

Through losing their last shot at nationals and getting all caught up in Shittykawa, Iwaizumi forgot about graduation. 

Completely. 

He stumbled through the ceremony in a numb daze. He accepted the teary embraces and the well wishes with a plastered on smile and nods of his head. 

Because as they went through the students who were awarded scholarships, the school they announced Oikawa was attending wasn’t the one they both always strived for, it wasn’t the one Oikawa said for sure he was going to with Iwaizumi. 

He lied.

They’re splitting at this fork in the road and Iwaizumi can’t help but think for certain these next couple of months will be the last they’ll see of each other. 

Walking out towards the parking lot with his mom, suddenly a slender arm was thrown across the plane of Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “So,” the annoying voice that belongs to none other than Hanamaki sang right in Iwaizumi’s ear. “Matsu and I are throwing a little thing-“

Iwaizumi scoffed and shrugged the ginger freak off of him. “Tch, nothing is small when it comes to you two. You’re telling me you didn’t invite the whole school?”

Something sheepish crossed Makki’s features. Iwaizumi melted slightly. “No, we just wanted to have one last hang out, you know? Our time’s like, kind of running out.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi sighed. “I know.”

“Did Oikawa tell you…”

“No.”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” _It does though, to me._ Makki let out a shaky breath before squaring Iwaizumi with a mischievous grin. “Let’s just get fucking wasted, eh?” He cheered, holding out a fist. 

Iwaizumi snorted but bumped it anyway. “2,000 yen says that I’ll beat your ass at mario kart.”

“Fuck you, you’re on!”

  
  
  
  
  


Iwaizumi won’t ever express it to the absolute morons, but god sitting here on Makki’s flooring watching the most intense and chaotic game of mario kart play out in front of him, Iwaizumi loves his friends with his fucking all. 

“You sleepy-eyed fucker!” Makki screamed from where he sat criss-cross at the edge of his bed. Matsu, who was sitting just below him, only rolled his eyes at the insult. “Stop placing banana peels!”

“Then get off my ass, you overgrown strawberry.”

“You-!” Makki started to yell but then his face melted a fraction. A light pink dusting his cheeks. “Okay but that’s actually kind of a cute-“

“I won.”

“Fuck you, Issei! You distracted me on purpose,” Hanamaki yelled down at the smirking and completely unbothered male. 

Matsu shrugged and placed his controller down on the floor in front of him gently. He rested his head back on top of Makki’s legs, eyes glittering as he looked at him. “I’ll let you win next time, babe.”

Makki, still petty, pushed Matsu’s head away from him but he was flustered nonetheless. 

Meanwhile that whole time, Oikawa and Iwaizumi watched that whole ordeal with slack jaws. Iwaizumi swears he watched a fly buzz into the brunette’s mouth. 

“Sometimes I don’t understand how you guys are even a couple,” Oikawa grumbled when the yelling died down. “Until one of you says something gross like that.”

Makki and Matsu shared one of their telepathic looks. Iwaizumi watched in horror as twin devilish smirks grew on their faces. “Okay,” he grunted as he pushed himself onto his feet. “I’m gonna get another beer-“

“Grab me one, _Iwa-chan_ ,” Makki piqued. 

“Go fuck yourself, Hanamaki,” Iwaizumi grumbled as he opened the door. 

He was about to leave, but then: “I’ll come with.”

Iwaizumi turned slowly towards the brunette, so slowly he could hear his bones creak and groan like rusted machinery. “Why?”

Oikawa cocked his head. Iwaizumi watched the curls, messed up from Oikawa running his hand through them too much, fall into his eyes. “Why not?”

Iwaizumi stood there like a fish out of water for so long the demon couple began to snicker at him. 

With heated cheeks and a thundering heart, Iwaizumi grunted a smooth “whatever” and stepped out of the bedroom. 

The journey through Hanamaki’s ridiculously sized house was mostly in silence if not for Oikawa’s buzzed up humming. 

Iwaizumi must have been pretty tipsy too because he didn’t pretend to mind like usual.

Sue him, the bastard has a nice voice. 

Finally breaching the kitchen, Oikawa spoke, “you’re angry at me.”

Turning on him, two cold bottles of beer clutched in his hand, Iwaizumi didn’t know whether to deny or admit it because he doesn’t actually really know how he feels. 

“Don’t try and pretend like you aren’t, Iwa-chan.”

“I’m not-“

“I get it if you are, really. It was stupid and selfish of me to lie and keep it a secret from you. We’ve had this all planned out since we were like twelve. And I just went and did whatever I wanted because I was- I was-“

Iwaizumi, during that rant, set down the bottles on the island and slowly inched himself towards the taller boy. Noticing his sudden proximity, Oikawa’s words seemed to die in his mouth. “Are you trying to convince me to be upset?”

“I- maybe?” Oikawa muttered awkwardly, voice small. Iwaizumi always loved this version of Oikawa, the one that wasn’t all defensive and bratty or consisted of superficial smiles. It was like a crack in the foundation, letting show how fragile and beaten down the real person is. 

Iwaizumi, for years, felt like he’s known two different people: there’s Oikawa and then there’s Tooru. 

“Well, I’m not. So, grab a drink and let’s get back upstairs before they start fucking.”

Oikawa chuckled as he whipped together one of his fruity drinks. “They’re so fucking gross.”

“Really though.”

  
  
  
  


A good half-a-dozen beers and 2,000 yen later, Iwaizumi can say he’s pretty fucked up. 

He realized it when he didn’t care when Makki and Matsu passed out. Ultimately, leaving him alone with Oikawa. 

Actually, he’s kind of grateful. 

He’s grateful because Oikawa always looked so damn happy and carefree like this. 

_And pretty, don’t forget pretty._

“Iwa,” Oikawa started. 

“Oiks,” Iwaizumi teased, smiling. 

Blinking in surprise, Oikawa looked like Iwaizumi just punched him in the face. Iwaizumi hasn’t muttered that nickname in years. Shaking his head, the pretty setter said, “I’m sorry.”

Iwaizumi’s face scrunched up. “For what?”

Oikawa with a long groan settled back against Hanamaki’s bed, long legs unfolding in front of him. Iwaizumi flinched at the way his knee cracked. “Stop looking at me like that, your face gets all ugly and mean.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and leaned back on his elbows. He looked up at Oikawa from underneath his eyelashes, hoping his expression was more “tired of your bullshit” than “ugly and mean”. 

“What are you apologizing for, Tooru?”

Based on how the brunette began to fidget, face screwed up a tiny fraction, Iwaizumi had him exactly where he wanted him. “Oikawa?”

“For everything,” he blurted in a squeak. “Just- everything.”

Maybe it was the over abundance of alcohol burning in his guts, but Iwaizumi thinks it was lidded molton brown eyes and pink cheeks that had him pushing himself from his position. 

It was the way Oikawa watched dazedly as Iwaizumi cut through the space between them that has been annoying him all fucking night that all but served as a clear motive to him crashing his mouth against his childhood best friend’s. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi all!
> 
> i hope this is a pretty nice chap to have after all, uhm, that has transpired over the last handful of chapters lmaaoo 
> 
> next chapter is a little gift from me to you and will be in Oikawa’s pov so ;))) gear up for that,, hopefully the wait wont be too long this time around !! sorry for the cliffhanger oops


	17. 16- spider silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The knock at Oikawa’s window was more of a tap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the recent support this has been receiving is so idek- outstanding,, thank you so much to everyone that has been commenting and leaving kudos, they all honestly mean the world to me! i wish with all my heart that i was better at showing my appreciation, but i hope this will do :D
> 
> anyway, enjoy

_Oikawa_

_5 years ago- 13 years old_

The stars plastered on his ceiling were glowing a muted sea-sick green, dimmed from being no less than ten years old. 

Maybe they’re muted because his vision is blurred but in truth, Oikawa doesn’t give a shit anymore. 

Tragic, how barely even thirteen and he’s already tired. 

_What a fucking joke._

Oikawa turned up the volume on his earbuds when the yelling turned to screaming and the sounds penetrated the speakers, when the ghost of hands on his skin grew too real.

Eyes flashing towards the drawer on his nightstand, he felt the itch on his thighs, felt the burn where his shorts rubbed at the healing wounds. The numbness in his gut continued to sink and sink, spreading as his pulse slowed to a lethargic beat in his arteries. 

He forced his eyes away and he began to count the fake galaxy on his ceiling. 

He got to fifty something when his phone went off. The custom notification sound kicked his heart and played with folly in his guts. 

The sound was crackled and almost harsh on the ears, but that simplistic and shitty " _boke!"_ will always seemingly mean the world to Oikawa. 

Bringing up his phone above his face, the bright screen burned his eyes. 

**Haji**

assykawa

still on for tonight?

Eyebrows scrunching, Oikawa typed: _why wouldn’t we be?_

As he imagined Iwaizumi, most likely sprawled out rudely on the couch, he smiled at the mental picture of the scratched and broken ass iPod held in two calloused and dirty hands, responding on that sketchy SMS app. 

Oikawa reminded himself to get the ass a real phone for his birthday. He didn’t miss the jealous look when Oikawa rubbed his christmas present in everyone’s nose. 

The notification sounded out, snapping Oikawa from his thoughts. 

**Haji**

idk

you seemed tired

Heart soaring, Oikawa typed out with shaky thumbs: _aww you worried about me?_

The time between Oikawa sending out the message and Iwaizumi’s reply felt like nanoseconds.

**Haji**

always

_  
  
  
_

The knock at Oikawa’s window was more of a tap. 

Turning his head, it was hard to keep up the lightly irritated expression at the sight of Iwaizumi looking like doofus, wearing a big stupid smile while he waved through the window pane. 

Taking a moment to grimace at the shot of pain blaring in his shoulder in response to moving from his bed to stand onto his feet, he pushed himself forward. Each step blurred out his nerves, coating his left side in a weird numb ache. 

He ripped open the window with a groan. “What did I tell you about climbing the vine thing? You’re going to fall one day.”

Iwaizumi shrugged and hauled himself in. Oikawa tried not to focus on how he’s grown better at the feat, showing barely an ounce of struggle. 

Oikawa could have melted at the smirk Iwaizumi directed at him. “Pft, as _if,_ Shittykawa. I’m amazing. Besides, I know better than to go through the front when your parents are- you know.”

Blinking at the other boy, Oikawa shouldn’t feel embarrassed. Not anymore, not ever. Iwaizumi has known since they were, what- four? He’s seen everything.

He never looked down on him with pity like the teachers or the parents when they see dark spots through cake-y foundation. 

Iwaizumi didn’t run when things began to be executed in front of his own eyes or when they began to be directed to him. 

And still, Oikawa acts as if they’re tied together by spider silk. 

“Okay, yeah.” _You shouldn’t know, though._ “You’re right. Anyway-“

“What happened?”

Oikawa couldn’t help the petulant groan. “I _hate it_ when you ask me that.”

Iwaizumi shrugged, moving past Oikawa to throw himself on his bed. Throwing his arms behind his head, he settled his green eyes on Oikawa. The gaze felt searching and heavy. “Can’t help it.”

Oikawa limped over and gently lifted himself up on his bed. He failed to hide the grimace when he tucked his legs underneath himself. “He pushed me, that’s it. The blow hurt my shoulder and hip.”

Iwaizumi blinked up at him, eyes bright as they reflected green stars. Oikawa watched with a thundering heart as he outstretched an arm. His fingers were shaking as they pressed into the skin of Oikawa’s cheekbone. 

He retracted with a relieved sigh when he found no tender, raised skin. Eyes closing, he whispered, “I hate it when he hurts you.” 

“Well, duh,” Oikawa scoffed, ignoring the way he was trembling. “Who wouldn-“

Iwaizumi’s eyes flashing open had Oikawa’s words suddenly stuck in his throat. “I _hate_ it.”

“Haji-“

“I’d kill him if I could.”

Before Oikawa could say anything, his door was creaking open. They didn’t tear their gazes from each other when his mother’s voice spoke into the heavy air of her son’s bedroom. “Your father is staying at a friend’s, Tooru. You and Hajime can be as loud as you like.”

“Are you okay, mom?”

“Of course.” Her voice was empty, a scary hollow timber. 

“Okay. Goodnight, I love you.”

Crossing the room to his bed, she laid a kiss to the crown of Oikawa’s head and ruffled Iwaizumi’s unstyled hair. “Goodnight boys. Be good.”

The door closed and Oikawa didn’t understand why he broke down into tears at his mom’s retreating footsteps. 

Iwaizumi silently maneuvered until he was settled behind him. Hugging him at the waist, Iwaizumi dragged him towards himself until Oikawa was nestled between his legs. 

Oikawa can hear that one American song streaming through his earbuds from where he discarded his phone somewhere on his bed. As his excellency in English provided him with enough context, he felt himself shatter in Iwaizumi’s arms. 

Nuzzling a warm cheek against the clammy skin of Oikawa’s neck, he said the words Oikawa would hear over and over in his head for years: “It’s okay, I’m here. I love you and I’m here.”

_“Our love was made for movie screens.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the song is all i want by kodaline
> 
> it came on shuffle when i was writing this
> 
> and i almost cried i couldn't help myself
> 
> sue me
> 
> (especially when i had the ending in mind oops)


	18. 17- sticky lips, soft skin, and jade pools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi with his tanned skin flushed a pretty salmon, his green eyes lidded and stained a dark evergreen. “I think I’m really drunk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chap is a ROLLER coaster my god
> 
> (also,, double update fuck yeah thanks for the patience)

  
  


_Oikawa_

  
  


Oikawa, while dealing with feelings of his own, wasn’t blind to those of Iwaizumi. 

He pretended that he never caught the glances, the jealousy, how sad those green eyes looked every time they looked at him. 

To Oikawa, this was easier, simple: to ignore. 

The things his best friend was able to catch up on were only grazing the surface. In some fucked up, backwards way, this was Oikawa’s way of protecting him. If he knows Iwaizumi Hajime even in the slightest, doing so in any straightforward type of method would only spiral the hardheaded spiker into a frenzy. 

He knows that Iwaizumi doesn’t know what he’d be getting himself into, not until he gets too deep and starts to drown. 

So, as he watched all that he bled and cried to accomplish crumble around him in the form of Iwaizumi closing the distance Oikawa so begrudgingly put between them, he didn’t know what to do. 

Not even when fantasy became reality and soft lips sticky with beer were pressed so devastatingly gentle against his own. 

Maybe it’s the vodka, maybe it’s Iwa, maybe it’s just Oikawa being stupid and awful, but he didn’t push the other away. 

Not before Iwaizumi backed away first. 

Oikawa’s head was spinning as he looked at Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi with his tanned skin flushed a pretty salmon, his green eyes lidded and stained a dark evergreen. “I think I’m really drunk?” he muttered, voice dark. 

Oikawa dipped his eyes down to where his legs were crossed beneath him. He felt lost in his own voice as he said, barely audible, “me too?” 

They fell into a thick silence, with only the sound of Matsukawa snoring in the background. Not being able to bear it itching at his skin any longer, Oikawa broke it. “Iwa?” 

“Mh’?”

 _Breathe_. “Do you think we’ll, like, remember this tomorrow?”

Iwaizumi said a non-hesitant, “no” and that was all it took for Oikawa to completely throw himself at his rock, his pillar, his everything with complete abandon. 

He’s imagined this a million times in a million different ways. 

Placing a hand at the thick muscle of Iwaizumi’s shoulder, Oikawa pushed him back against the bed. Stradling the narrow set of hips, he pulled back a hair's breadth, just enough to say, “Remember the night you came over about a week before my mom died?”

“To-“

“Do you remember? The night he beat her emotionless and you held me while I cried.”

“Of course I remember.”

“I fell in love with you that night.” 

“You’re drunk,” Iwaizumi laughed against his mouth. He pulled back an inch. Oikawa opened his eyes to look into his eyes, casted over with a filter of heavy emotions and beer. 

“You’re right, what I said isn’t right. I realized I was in love with you that night. Better?” 

Iwaizumi shook his head and Oikawa would have buckled if it wasn’t for him nestled atop his best friend. 

The hand the other placed on the back of his neck was cold on the flushed skin. It drifted around his jaw, thumb running along where the skin was loose around the sharp cut of the bone. They kept drifting and playing amongst jumping skin. Iwaizumi stopped at Oikawa’s cheek, thumbs rubbing at the summit of the cheekbones. 

He laughed a heartbroken laugh. “You cry too much.” 

“I’m not crying,” Oikawa lied through his teeth. 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes but there was nothing even similar to amusement in his handsome features. Oikawa shivered. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of-“

“You can’t lie.” 

“Okay.” 

“Why don’t you call me Haji anymore?” 

And the world spun around him, even more so than before. “Do we have to do this now?” Oikawa barely choked out as words he buried under cement seemed to have clawed their way back to the surface.

_“Crying out for little Hajime? I bet you’re wishing your precious Haji-chan is going to come save you, huh.”_

Oikawa pressed a fist against Iwaizumi’s chest, attempting to push himself from the other. With an iron grip, Iwaizumi held him in place. 

_“Or are you wishing it’s him with you like this? Are you imagining it’s Haji-chan’s dick inside you right now you pathetic piece of shit?”_

He felt like he’s going to be sick.

So instead of vocalizing that or answering Iwaizumi’s question that probably went a little deeper than what drunk Oikawa wanted to believe, he just lunged forward. Taking his best friend’s mouth once again, Oikawa swallowed the surprised noise that erupted from Iwaizumi’s throat. 

Because like he stated before to himself, this is easier. 

To ignore, to allow for things to flutter from his consciousness and fade into the oblivion surrounding the two of them. Oikawa knows he’ll only breathe it all back in in the morning, but in this moment, all that matters is Iwaizumi’s hand creeping underneath the hem of his shirt, calloused palms resting at the slight dip of his waist. 

As he melted on Iwaizumi like butter on a pancake, he was able to forget about his actual reasoning behind going to a different university. 

Warm mouth trailing from his two swollen red lips, Oikawa completely relaxed around the pair of hips. He didn’t stop the groan from leaving him as their groins fully pressed against one another. Iwaizumi’s ministrations against the muscle of Oikawa’s throat stilled for a few moments before in a torrent of almost “too much” Iwaizumi’s grip on him grew harsh and teeth were suddenly puncturing his throat. 

He figured out he was receiving a hickey a little too late as Iwa was already lapping the bruise clean and he was moving back to lean against the bed. His eyes were warm as they stared up at Oikawa, the brown more pronounced than the green. 

They looked like murky jade; like ones that have just been unearthed. 

“Tooru,” he rasped, pulling Oikawa to the surface from where he was drowning in green ponds. 

“Hm?”

“We probably should stop.” 

And the world spinning around Oikawa skidding to a dead stop. “Wh- why?” 

A red scorched Iwaizumu’s face, leaving Oikawa even more confused. 

Whatever his reasoning, it can’t be that he isn’t like- _enjoying_ himself? Right? At least, from what Oikawa can feel, he’s having a grand ol’ time. “Iwa?” He pushed. 

The spiker’s eyes slid closed with a groan, hand running down his face. “It doesn’t matter. Just- I don’t know, I’m really drunk.” 

“Yeah?” Oikawa sighed. “So am I.” 

But really, what the hell does he have to be worrying about? He’s wasted, the odds of him even recalling anything after that mario kart game is so slim anorexics freak out over it under the ‘proana’ tag on Tumblr. 

Oikawa’s the one that has the ghost of Ito’s hands running over his clammy skin when he’d do anything, when he’d _kill_ just to feel Iwa. To only focus on the pressure of his hold, of his breathing, of the sounds he makes.

Raised skin is buzzing and burning underneath thick makeup. 

And he knows, Oikawa fucking _knows_ that for himself, this is a confession, a torrent of everything he has been dreaming and thinking of for his best friend since he was probably like ten when to Iwaizumi this is nothing but a-

“Because I know this means nothing to you.” 

Oikawa almost threw himself off of the other at his words. “What?” 

“You heard me, Shit-” 

“No, shut up,” Oikawa interrupted. 

“Oi-” 

“ _Shh._ Let me just- shh.” He can’t think and Iwaizumi won’t stop talking. “What are you saying?” 

Iwaizumi blinked up at him with the most dazed, taken a-back look Oikawa has ever seen on him. Then it settled into something hard and a little pained. “I’ve been dreaming of something like this happening for years, Tooru.” 

“I-” 

“I know that you’re just doing this because you’re drunk or acting out or something, I don’t care.” _You do though._ “But- that’s not the same for me. You said something about ‘falling in love with me’ that night. God, I don’t- I was always in love with you.” Oikawa watched in horror as Iwaizumi threw his head back, a sick laugh bubbling from his throat. He took a hand from Oikawa’s waist to run through wild and messed hair. “That’s kind of creepy I’m sor-” 

Before Oikawa knew what he was doing, he was leaning forward. Something devilish and hot was clutching at his insides. 

Iwaizumi’s hand stilled in his hair and his jade eyes went comically wide. Oikawa couldn’t help but giggle at the expression on the usually stoic Iwaizumi Hajime.

Lips stilling just at Iwaizumi’s earlobe, Oikawa breathed in the musky, spicy scent of him, and purred, “how many times have you jacked off to the thought of me, Haji-chan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 18 is gon be somethin somethin


	19. 18- just at arms reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So tell me, Tooru. How many times have you thought about me touching myself,” placing a hand at the arch of Oikawa’s back, Iwaizumi pulled the brunette flush against himself- “to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo bitches guess who's back? 
> 
> sorry for that unspoken hiatus but im back with whatever the hell this is !!

As the hearty laugh left him, Iwaizumi was almost just as surprised by the reaction as Oikawa and the taller male literally  _ scrambled away _ . 

And that laugh only grew louder as the surprised look on the brunette settled into a pout. “Mean Iwa-chan.”

Shrugging, Iwaizumi forced himself to sober up. “I’m sorry,” he cooed. Holding out his arms towards the man-child. “Come here, Babykawa.”

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Nope.”

“C’mon-“

“Say you’re sorry.”

“My arms are starting to hurt.”

“Then apologize for being a meanie, it’s not  _ hard _ .”

_ Well _ I am _ so just get  _ over  _ here _ . 

“I’m always being a meanie, though.” The glare aimed at Iwaizumi at his words pulled a long and dramatic sigh from his lungs. “Fine, I’m sorry for laughing.” 

After the begrudging apology, Iwaizumi re-established his arms that were still held out. A beautiful and grand grin bloomed on Oikawa’s face as he wormed his way back on top of Iwaizumi. 

He didn’t hesitate before wrapping his sinewy arms about Iwa’s neck and looking down at him like there was nothing in this world he’d rather be staring at. “You never answered my question,” he prodded again, long and meticulous fingers toying with the baby hairs dusting Iwaizumi’s nape. 

Scoffing, he squared the cunning setter a daunting look. “Why do you want to know so bad? The only  _ reason  _ I can think why you’d be so desperate for an answer is if that has been weighing on your mind.”

The smug look literally fell off Oikawa’s face, devilish fingers stilling. 

“So tell me,  _ Tooru. _ How many times have you thought about me touching myself,” placing a hand at the arch of Oikawa’s back, Iwaizumi pulled the brunette flush against himself- “to you?” Squeaking at the sudden proximity, Oikawa’s hands flew to Iwaizumi’s shoulders to steady himself. He couldn’t help but relish in the blush on the usual cocky boy’s cheeks, how his thin fingers were pressing harshly into the muscle of his shoulders like he was trying to ground himself. 

There was a far away look in his eye. 

Sighing in defeat, Iwaizumi kissed his way up the thin neck. He stopped at the joint right below the ear. “Because I assure you, pretty,” Iwaizumi started, prodding at that praise kink that you’d have to be blind to not be aware of Oikawa possessing, “your name was on my lips more times than I can count, more than you can imagine.”

As Oikawa shifted upon Iwaizumi’s blurring skin, he’d give  _ anything  _ to just be aware. 

Because Oikawa was diving into him, mouth working against his like he’s been starved his entire life. Thin hands were fisting his shirt, pulling and yanking at the fabric like it single-handedly was the captain’s worst enemy. 

With a dark chuckle, Iwaizumi separated himself from the brunette, having to place a hand on his slim chest as Oikawa tried to follow his movements. He didn’t break eye contact as gripped the hem of his t-shirt and yanked off the material. Oikawa’s eyes dipped down to the defined muscles of Iwaizumi’s abdomen as they contracted from the labored breathing. His gaze was lidded and dark as he wrapped a tentative hand around the dip of a toned waist. 

Iwaizumi bit his lip as Oikawa pressed a thumb into the hot skin. He felt himself throb in his jeans and Oikawa must have to as big bambi eyes flicked upward. 

But like a coin was tossed into the air, a switch was caught and they’re narrowing, the feigned innocence morphing into something dangerous. Rosy lips were now spread into a smirk and Iwaizumi was rock hard with a bad taste in his mouth. 

Before he knew what was even going on Oikawa was reaching a hand between both of their panting bodies to wrap about Iwaizumi’s clothed cock, palming it through the coarse, damned material.

Iwaizumi with a deep groan placed a loose grip about the pale and cold flesh of Oikawa waist and Oikawa’s lips are at his neck. Suckling at the skin in a way that teased bruising, but just slightly wasn’t enough. The pressure of his perfect teeth was just right to blur and smash Iwaizumi’s thoughts to mush. 

Bitten and sickly purple fingernails were pinching his zipper, playing and tugging. 

Lips smiling as they hovered just over his own. The brunette’s breathing above him was ragged and heavy as it broke on his face. 

And in this exact moment, drunk and high on hormones, Iwaizumi knew every fragile and minuscule thing that was missing with Mei and that could very well be missing with every other goddamn being on this planet besides for Oikawa fucking Tooru.

“Iwa-“

“Say my name,” he choked out despite himself. 

He felt Oikawa go completely still above him, lungs stealing the breath between them in a gasp. Iwaizumi opened his eyes to wide and fogged orbs that he’s been in love with since he first laid sight on them. “Say it,” he said again in a breath. 

Oikawa melted with a long breath, his full weight sitting upon Iwa’s hips. 

“Haji.”

It could be the alcohol, but Iwa thinks this is weirdly the most relaxed he’s seen Oikawa in years. 

It could be the circumstance, but he also thinks he’s never felt this in love with anything, with anyone then he is right now. 

“Haji,” Oikawa continued. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Then don’t,” Iwaizumi tried to say as cool as possible but his heart is beating so fast in his chest it’s making his voice tremble. 

He bets Oikawa can feel it, can hear it. 

He thinks he wants Oikawa to. 

“Don’t?”

Maybe because he wishes he could feel Oikawa’s own heart rocking his ribcage, hear it trying to keep up with the fast rhythm his arteries have set. 

“Yes-“

Before Iwaizumi could even finish his sentence, Oikawa slid onto his stomach and the sound of a zipper ripped the silence of Hanamaki’s bedroom to shreds. 

It was all Iwaizumi could do to curl his hands into fists at his side and pray. 

Because there’s a cold and pretty hand inching beneath the waistband of his briefs. 

Another crooking a finger at the hem to lighten the constraint. 

Long fingers were wrapping around the base of his dick and Iwaizumi had no choice but to watch the emotions flickering across the beautiful face of Oikawa as he took Iwaizumi out of his jeans. “Oi-“

“Shut up, Iwa-chan,” was all he rushed out before he popped the head into his mouth.

Oikawa didn’t waste any time before committing an onslaught of ministrations against the underside of the head of Iwaizumi’s cock. A hand pumping along his shaft. His eyes lidded and almost black as they stared up at him.

He took him a slight dip deeper, just enough where Iwaizumi could feel the hot muscles working and steaming in the back of his childhood best friend’s throat.

Just as Oikawa’s throat gurgled around his cock, Iwaizumi’s resolve began to be steadily chipped away. Enough to the point where he was burying his hands in messy curls and throwing his head back as a gutteral groan ripped at his chest because jesus fuck where is any of this  _ coming from _ ?

But like being doused in cold water, Iwaizumi was pulled back from wherever he momentarily ascended to because a disgruntled noise came from above where the two of them are situated.

Looking down at Oikawa in fear, he had to bite back another groan because brown eyes were blown wide and bright, trained on Matsukawa as he tossed fitfully in his sleep. His elbows were red and irritated as they sat on the tatami mat, supporting his entire upper body weight. Iwaizumi’s cock sitting on a red, panting tongue. Drool was dripping down Oikawa’s chin and webbing between his mouth and the underside of the thick piece of flesh. 

Swallowing hard, Iwaizumi couldn’t resist the urge as he reached out to cup a soft cheek, his thumb swiping and smearing the spit across the skin. Ultimately earning Oikawa’s eyes back on him, where he liked them.

Iwaizumi felt himself smirk. “Fuck, Tooru. You’re so gorgeous, baby.” The boy’s eyes fluttered at the praise. Iwaizumi had the setter right where he wanted him. “Wish I could take a picture.”

Oikawa pushed his tongue from his mouth even further along Iwaizumi’s shaft, eyes painting over with this innocent, angelic gloss. 

Iwaizumi frantically grabbed his phone from where it was discarded how many hours ago and drunkenly tapped through apps until he miraculously winded up on the camera. As he angled the lens at the most sinful image of Oikawa anyone has been exposed to, Iwaizumi thinks it’s sort of funny how all that has transpired isn’t far from his fantasies. 

Maybe it’s simply another sick dream, an outlash of his pent of perversion for his best friend. 

As soon as the picture was captured and saved somewhere in his gallery, Iwaizumi threw his phone to wherever the fuck it doesn’t matter because long graceful fingers were on his jean clad thighs and spreading them. 

Once slack lips were now tightening into a proud and cocky grin. And jesus fuck Iwaizumi doesn’t know how much more he can  _ take _ . 

Too focused on his sanity leaving with each little thing Oikawa is doing, Iwaizumi didn’t notice the one hand moved to wrap around the base of his cock- harshly. 

Harsh enough to cause for the nerves along his spine to light up in bolt like fashions and to elicit a moan that he muffled just in time with a hand slapping to his mouth. 

Mouth wrapping around his pointer finger so he could dig his teeth into the boney body part because Oikawa was now bobbing his head, choking and humming around the head of Iwaizumi’s cock. 

When Iwaizumi felt he had a grip on himself he finally took his teeth out of his own flesh to push back the curls that have fallen into Oikawa’s eyes. He let his hand stay entwined with soft tendrils. “Doing so good, baby,” Iwaizumi felt rumble from his own chest. “Fuck, keep going.” 

The pretty sweet moan that he released in response to wrap around Iwaizumi’s dick in sick vibrations that about drove him nuts. Nuts for the way Oikawa was gurgling and gagging, going deeper with every dip of his head until he came off of Iwaizumi’s cock with a wet pop and a gasp.    


Iwaizumi was sitting there with his head lolled onto his shoulder, watching through dark eyelashes as Oikawa continued to pump him mercilessly while he attempted to catch his breath. 

Sensitivity was rushing over his limbs and abdomen in a cold sweat. A low thrum moving throughout his muscles. 

Iwaizumi with blurred movements gripped at the brunette curls harder, tighter. Oikawa looked up at him and Iwa got lost in the way the strands strained and tightened in his grasp.    


“I wanna feel you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathed in a high octave, a tone Iwaizumi never thought would sound sexy in a million years. Pink tongue darting back out and pressing into the angry and leaking slit of Iwaizumi’s cock, a purr resonated in Oikawa’s chest as he watched the spiker’s eyes darken and grow wide at the same time. “I want you to fuck me.” 

And if those few measly words didn’t single-handedly cause for every single one of Iwaizumi’s organs to contract and ache- fuck, call him a pathetic bitch. 

Staring down at Oikawa’s sparkling and begging eyes almost pushed him over the edge but where in the fuck would that get them? Iwa might be the most wasted he’s been for a long time, but damn if he doesn’t pride himself on his self-control. 

But his pride is withering at the sight of the brunette tilting his head to nuzzle a cheek sticky with spit along the head of Iwaizumi’s cock, to paint shiny precome upon the flesh. 

Breathing in deeply, Iwaizumi’s hand fell from where it was in Oikawa’s hair to run along his jaw, stopping to grab at his chin, holding the boy’s gaze. “That would be stupid of us, mh?”

Oikawa’s head tilted, chin shifting where it was held between Iwaizumi’s index and thumb. “How?”

“Did you happen to bring lube? Condoms?”

Oikawa blinked dumbly a few times before jerking himself from Iwaizumi’s grasp. 

Then his hand did an abrupt tug upwards from where it was still wrapped around Iwaizumi’s cock. Hips jerking and chasing the beautiful cacophany of pleasure and pain as he’s so fucking gone he caught himself before his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

“ _ Fuck _ , ‘Kawa,” he groaned between clenched teeth. 

Peeling his eyes open he watched as a red knuckled fist tightened just below the swollen head of his own dick, wrist moving in a wringing motion with just the right friction to have every fiber of muscle in Iwaizumi’s lower body to tighten and throb. 

His hands balled into fists so tightly he felt his nails break the skin. 

Oikawa was looking up at him with a glazed eyes and fuck all Iwa wants to do is-

“Do you want to fuck my mouth, Haji-kun? Spill down my throat?” With each word he was leaning in just a little closer, until his lips were brushing throbbing skin. “I’ll be a good baby. I’ll swallow all of it.”

Not trusting the heavy tongue sitting in his mouth, Iwaizumi answered the dirtied words with the spread of his legs, relaxing in his position. Gripping both sides of Oikawa’s head, he looked down and smiled. 

With the roll of his eyes, Oikawa slowly lowered himself once again. Removing his hand to place gently on Iwaizumi’s hip, he placed the heavy dick on his tongue. Brown eyes flashing to murky green, a spark of scary ambition flashing across the orbs was all it took for Iwaizumi’s brain to switch and he was gripping hair and cheeks and his hips were thrusting into thick, wet heat. 

His brain was flashing white, eyes rolled into the back of his head underneath eyelids. He was seeing red as he senselessly chased the clench of muscles, of heat, euphoria, of whatever fantastical feeling Oikawa teases but just never seems to give. 

But he couldn’t even describe whatever seemed to wash over and drown him as he let his eyes open to the sight of most sinful, most gorgeous picture he’s ever fucking seen. 

Red, abused and sunken cheeks stained with a river of tears. 

Eyes so fucking blissed out Iwaizumi thinks he could stare into them forever.

Hips stuttering as he unconsciously dragged his clothed groin up and down Iwaizumi’s outstretched leg. 

It was like all that’s left of him as he takes in the sight is pure hormones and instinct- animalistic. It felt nasty, disgusting as it coursed his system but almost addictive as he fell victim to it, as he let it seamlessly take control.    


He didn’t feel like himself as he fisted locks, nails scratching and catching on Oikawa’s scalp but judging by the way molten obrs rolled and moans vibrated the boy’s throat he seemed to like the pain of the pull, of the scratch and pick against sensitive skin. 

So Iwaizumi kept pulling to watch as his best friend grew more and more gone while the thick cock rocked into the back of his now numbed and fucked throat. 

But suddenly as if Oikawa stubbornly kept ahold of his last strand of sanity, he jerked a little to life. Where his hand still limply held Iwaizumi’s hip and the other braced his thigh, his hold there tightened and manicured nails were now biting into Iwa’s flesh in the best way.    


And he took him even deeper, as deep as he can with his nose sucking air against the shaved skin of Iwaizumi’s naval and drool was leaking past his lip to drip onto Iwaizumi’s balls. 

He couldn’t help from throwing his head back at the feeling of his entire dick buried deep between the working muscles of Oikawa’s throat as he moaned and hummed to keep himself from gagging, swallowing a growl because his hips are jumping because he doesn’t want to hur-

With a pinch at his thigh and an impatient look, Oikawa basically told him to hurry the fuck up and that was all it took for Iwaizumi to let his eyes roll and he was back to fucking up into his friend’s mouth at complete abdandon, chasing the heat gathering pesteringly in his belly and spreading throughout his legs. 

“‘M close,” he groaned in a breath, a low rumble falling from his lips. 

Oikawa barely managed a curt nod and continued to lay pretty as Iwaizumi fucked up into his mouth faster, more brutal as the promise of release rotted his brain. 

He could taste it on his tongue. 

So close that he didn’t even notice Oikawa’s hand leaving where it was squeezing the hell out of Iwaizumi’s thigh, didn’t notice the sound of a zipper being pulled. 

Didn’t care about any of that because fuck this is the most sated he’s felt in a long time. With Mei it was always followed by a bad taste in his mouth. Just himself would end with him laying in his bed staring at his ceiling feeling disgusting as the world spun around him every fucking time. 

But for some reason, it feels like Oikawa is taking every little knot and unraveling it, taking it out of him strand by strand. 

Iwaizumi, even though he wants to cum so badly it’s starting to hurt, could sit here forever with the world stopped around them, not even breathing as they existed seemingly in one another.

Maybe because Iwaizumi knows deep down that this is temporary, that this will be the last time he’ll ever feel like this with the love of his life. 

As his climax knotted his stomach and his muscles locked, his head knocking back and pushing against the mattress behind him, Iwaizumi thought he felt something cold dot in the corner of his eye and run down his cheek.

Oikawa swallowed all of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't ask me how i could possibly make smut angsty, its just a superpower of mine at this point
> 
> again sorry for the delay, but writing smut isn't my forte and i get too nervous to write/post it because of that :( pls go easy on me, ik it was sub par


	20. 19- untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me to wake up, Tooru. I can't-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not beta'd :/

_ Oikawa _

Oikawa has woken to a handful of bad situations, but he must say feeling whatever substance dry and crack and pull at his skin beneath the material of his jeans as his mind jerks awake has to be at least top ten. 

Shooting up from the uncomfortable tatami below him, he barely had time to take in a heavy mass slipping past his waist as he jolted upward before his mind was running with guttural sounds and smacking, of a fullness in his throat. 

Looking down at Iwaizumi, sleeping peacefully with a tan arm tucked below a smushed cheek, Oikawa swallowed vomit. 

Without even knowing why, he found himself grabbing Iwaizumi’s phone and unlocking it. The picture he was welcomed with was enough, it was just fucking enough for him to taste a spiral on his tongue. 

With tears webbing his eyelashes, Oikawa deleted them with a shaky thumb before gently placing it back where he found it. 

Watching thick eyelashes flutter, Oikawa guesses he was drunk enough to be hasty and irresponsible but not enough to forget. 

For a single moment, Oikawa allowed himself to reach out and thread his fingers through soft strands one last time. 

Sighing, Oikawa pushed himself on two wobbly legs and shook Makki awake. “Hey, can I use your shower?” 

“Hm.” 

“Makki-” 

“ _ Yes, _ Stinky. Go.”

_ Meanie. _

As Oikawa made a step over Iwaizumi, it felt like flipping the last page of a book when knowing there was no other installment. Both feet landing on the opposite side, just a little closer to the door, Tooru hopes he never sees Iwaizumi Hajime ever again. 

  
  


_ Iwaizumi _

He woke up to Hanamaki staring at his bedroom door with a pair of narrowed eyes. “What are doing, Hanamaki? Your door say something to you?” 

He shook his head before two cold eyes dipped down to stare with the same expression at Iwaizumi. “Oikawa just left.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Shrugging, he let himself fall back on his bed. “You’re going to run after him if I explain.” 

“Makki.” 

“Ugh. He woke me up like an hour ago to take a shower and his car is gone. He left.” 

“Okay…”

“He leaves tomorrow morning for Argentina.” 

Hanamaki was completely right as Iwaizumi found himself pushing off the floor to run out Maki’s bedroom, down the stairs, and out the front door. 

To see Oikawa stupidly nice car missing from where it was badly parked at the curb. 

He didn’t realize that this was it until he went back upstairs to grab his phone to find that his number was blocked. Blocked on all social media.

But the stupid bastard must not know him well enough to think this will keep him away when in fact it single-handely served as a motive for Iwaizumi to throw himself into his car and speed his way to Oikawa’s house fucking  _ fuming _ . 

  
  
  


Slamming his piece of shit into the park and throwing open the door, Iwaizumi stormed up to the front of the Oikawa Residence and didn’t even bother knocking. 

He ignored Oikawa’s dad screaming from the living room as he ran up the stairs. He beelined towards the dumbass’s bedroom with water rushing in his ears. He threw open the bedroom door and slammed it. 

He was so fucking angry as his eyes landed on Oikawa as he sat in front of a pile of clothes and useless shit that he couldn’t talk, couldn’t even think. 

He didn’t care that the other was looking up at him with wide, scared eyes behind thick glasses half slid down his nose. 

He didn’t care that Oikawa was shaking. 

Didn’t care for the tear streaks. 

“Why?” He spat. 

“Iwa, what are you-” 

“Why do you think it’s okay to just fucking  _ leave?"  _ When Oikawa could only stare up at him with wide eyes, Iwaizumi felt his chest heat up he was so pissed. “Fuck you, ‘Kawa. Do you know how much history you’re just burning? And I’m not even talking about me. It’s Kyoutani and Yahaba, it’s Maki and Matsu, watching as Kunimi and Kindiachi take over the team you poured your blood and tears into! You’re leaving it all behind for what?”

“Hajime please just sit down or something.” 

“Give me a fucking answer.” 

“You’re insufferable when you’re angry.” 

“Stop diverting attention.” 

But God, Iwaizumi must say that his rage is dissipating fast. He feels the tiredness taking over his muscles, over his mind like a drug, leaving him feeling like he’s about to collapse right to the flooring of Tooru’s bedroom. 

And with Oikawa still staring up at him with an open mouth mute of saying literally anything, he thinks he just might break into tears as the anger left a shadow of an emotion Iwaizumi never could come to terms with. “Tooru, please just-” his words fractured and cracked in the back of his throat. Iwaizumi found himself falling against Oikawa’s door and sliding down the wood. “Tell me all of this has been just a dream.” 

“Tell me to wake up, Tooru. I don’t-” 

“Something’s wrong, Iwa-chan.” 

And it was like Iwaizumi was robbed of air, like the gravitational pull of the sun ceased and everything tilted. His heart was so loud in his chest he couldn’t say a thing, only stare at Oikawa, helplessly waiting. 

The bastard couldn’t even look at him as he stared down at the jeans half folded in his lap, sniffling like this is hurting him. “Maybe me leaving will allow you time for yourself.” 

“What are you saying?” Iwaizumi heard himself growling out, feeling like it was someone else vocalizing through his body. He didn’t feel like he was here. 

“You’re obsessed with me, it’s unhealthy. You can’t fix me, you can’t save me. This- whatever is wrong with me isn’t curable and all that’s happened can’t just be erased. I know you know that, and that’s what’s paining you so much, Iwa-chan.”

“Oikawa-” 

“Me disappearing will be the best thing that’s happened to you, I promise.” 

“No-”

“I need you to realize that you can be happy, that I’m the reason why you’re so miserable. You can realize things about yourself and your childhood that you can grow from and out of. I’m a disease, Hajime.” 

He was crying by now, silent tears rolling down his cheeks one by one. Iwaizumi wiped them away furiously, harshly. “That’s fucking bullshit.” 

All the breath escaped from Oikawa’s lungs and Iwaizumi was finally taking in how the brunette looked to be at his breaking point. “It probably is, Iwa, but I can’t keep watching you kill yourself by my hand. Get back together with Mei, persue your dream job, have kids- for fuck sake, Haji just let yourself be happy.

“Because I never will. I never will be  _ fucking happy okay?  _ You don’t need me to drag you down anymore, this is your chance to be free of me can you just take what I’m offering? Just not be stubborn for the first time in your life  _ please? _ ” 

And wordlessly, Iwaizumi reached up behind him and gripped the handle of the door and pulled himself to his feet. He didn’t spare another glance at Oikawa as he opened and stepped through the door. 

As soon as it clicked shut softly behind him, the sound Oikawa made was like a knife to the heart that had Iwaizumi falling to his knees almost, arm shooting out against the wall just in time. 

Each step he took was ripping him apart. 

Each step down the stairs left his mind spinning. 

It wasn’t until he was on the front porch was he finally free of the wailing, of the sound of Oikawa breaking apart and Iwaizumi fell against the pillar with a sharp gasp. 

_ “I’m a disease, Hajime.” _

As he pushed himself from the pillar and stumbled onto the lawn, Iwaizumi looked up at the sky and thought it looked different- muter, empty. 

It wasn’t until he slid into his car did it sink in and he was banging his fists against his steering wheel and screaming, the rage and the sadness and confusion making a hurricane in his chest that didn’t allow him to breathe. 

Someone please just  _ wake him up _ .

He doesn’t want to live in this nightmare anymore, he just wants it all to stop. Iwaizumi wants to wake up and go to school. Wants to go back to rolling his eyes at Hanamaki and slapping Oikawa upside the head. He wants the scars to stop existing on his best friend’s flesh, he wants Oikawa’s mom to still smile at him as she opens the door. He wants to hear Oikawa laugh again. 

He wishes his dad have never left. 

He wishes him and Haruki didn’t fall out a couple years of ago.

He wishes he would have just kissed Oikawa the first time he ever wanted to.   
  
  


His phone has been vibrating non-stop from where it rests underneath his pillow. 

And in no fucking way is it his alarm already.

  
  
  
  



	21. 20- an ocean of tears will spill for what is broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... what the fuck did you do to him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ik it's short but i just really like how it ended
> 
> next chap should be up soon

Iwaizumi has only been inside an emergency room once before now.

Funny how both times it’s been Oikawa related.

Funny how both times it’s been due to suicide, whether it worked or not, whether it’s him or his mom’s name inscribed on the plate outside the door, whether Iwaizumi can hear the soft, rythmic beeping or dead silence through the door, it doesn’t matter. 

It doesn’t matter because both times his hand was shaking around the knob. 

Finally just tearing it open, he didn’t know the emotion coursing him at the sight of Oikawa nestled in his hospital bed, arms wrapped thickly, the fabric stained a vomit-inducing brown. 

Finally taking in the soft breaths coming from him, Iwaizumi fully entered the room and closed the door softly behind him. 

There were only two other chairs in the room, both occupied by Oikawa’s sister and his piss-stain of a father who were both sleeping. 

Iwaizumi found himself standing in the middle of the room, boots rooted to the floor like they have embedded into the cement tiles. 

The little world inside this room was spinning around Iwaizumi’s head, the oxygen moving too fast around him for him to suck into his lungs. 

His vision was a blur. 

He doesn’t think he really understands what’s actually going on, why he’s here. 

He feels like his thirteen again as he numbly exits the room to find a nurse so he could get a chair. 

The feeling doesn’t really go away until a nurse comes into the room a half an hour later with an apologetic smile and he was finally able to stare at the state Oikawa’s in, to actually let himself comprehend what has transpired. 

The tears as they fell down his cheeks were cold.

  
  
  


The hand that shook him was awake was gentle. 

The face he saw across from the room as he let his eyes flutter open was hard and unyielding. 

“Iwaizumi,” came the soft voice of Oikawa’s sister, Miku. “Good morning.” 

Pushing himself up from whatever fucked position he fell into as he slept, Miku backed up and gave way to the view of Oikawa still sleeping. The dread that filled Iwaizumi was heavy and hot. “What time is it?” He croaked out through a dry and closed throat. 

“Nine.” 

“I better call my work.”

“Yeah that would be a good-” 

Then, like thunder clapping through the peaceful rhythm of rain, came, “go home, boy.” 

Eyes snapping towards Oikawa’s father, that dread sitting heavy in Iwa’s belly turned into boiling hatred, anger. 

Iwaizumi found himself fisting the armrests of the cheap chair he was perched in, physically having to hold himself back from closing the distance between him and heeping peice of shit and grabbing him by his collar to punch him straight in the fucking jaw. “Why don’t you go home, Mr. Oikawa?” 

The man rose, like a boulder to block all sunlight streaming from the large window behind him. 

Iwaizumi thought briefly how Oikawa would be happy for the window whenever he finally wakes up before the beast started to stalk towards him, the anger radiating from his form in waves that hit Iwaizumi straight in the chest. 

But if there was one thing about Iwa, it’s that he could never sit and take it, not even for a dying Tooru, not for a crying Miku, not for saving face or his own safety even. 

Rising to his feet, he looked the man in the eye and squared his jaw, waiting. 

“You’re not good for him. Leave,” he ground out between two sets of teeth, knuckles reddening from how hard he was clenching the fists at his sight. “You’re the one who put theses- these impluses and _ideas_ into his head. Get the hell out of my son’s hospital room."

Iwaizumi smiled a sick smile. “I’d bet my savings, my future, everything that we’re in here because of _you_ .” The man exhaled harshly through his nose like a bull. Iwaizumi stepped even closer, not even caring of how hard he had to strain his neck. If there was any moisture left in his mouth, he would have spat on that Armani suit. “What did you say to him? What did you do to him? Care to eleborate on that bruise on his cheekbone, or the one around his throat? What the _fuck_ did you do to him?” 

In an instant, the man stepped down. The hard look in his eyes turned into one of a cornered animal. Iwaizumi could tell it was the look of one to back down, not to act irrational. 

With a jerk, the man sidestepped Iwaizumi to storm out of the hospital room, slamming the door behind him. 

With a breath, Iwaizumi fell back into his chair. “Too early for this shit,” he sighed to himself. 

“Tooru was right,” Miku sighed from where she still stood shell-shocked. 

Eyes opened and rolled lazily towards the woman, Iwaizumi breathed, “about what?” 

“You’d really fight for him until it killed you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just had to go there and make iwa inherently violent again but like him being a type 8 (enneagram) just makes me so anfappfe i can't HANDLE it omg
> 
> anyway
> 
> please leave your comments if you haven't, they make me so happy okay


	22. 21- maybe you were the ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just leave, Iwaizumi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as this completes the first arc and this fic descends fully into hell, chapters will go back to about 1k words again
> 
> and by hell i mean hell
> 
> so if yall want to just pretend this ends here, pls do because it might get painful to read 
> 
> like i had to switch from my sad playlist to my “im at school and dissociated as shit because this place makes me wish death upon myself” playlist

Iwaizumi's eyes were dry and burning as he looked at the side of Oikawa’s head. 

Even in scrubs and almost-dead, the bastard was always such a pretty sleeper. 

“If he’d let me, yeah I would,” he replied monotonously. 

It was quiet for a little while following, the air swirling dead around them as they both stared emptily at Oikawa. 

Then, soft and barely audible, “he’s always been so sad, so- so…”

_Off?_

“... you get what I mean. But then you came along and it was almost like something was flipped. I think you filled a hole in him, Iwaizumi. I regret leaving but being in that house- I saw my chance and I took it. But you know what gave me comfort as I left?”

Iwaizumi looked at her and bit back the gasp at the sight of a smile breaking through tears as she looked back. “You. Knowing you would take my place of standing in front of his door, knowing that he could have your shirt soak up his tears in place of my blankets. You could stop the bleeding.” She took in a breath and closed her eyes. “You meant the universe to him and I could always tell behind the insults was- that you felt the same.”

Her eyes were dark as they opened. 

Iwaizumi felt like his heart was in his throat as he said, “And look at what a good job I did, Miku.”

She shook her head, a choppy side to side. “I never said you would save him or _fix_ him. The only person who can do that is himself.”

Iwa looked at the thick bandages. “I don’t think he wants that for himself.”

She simply shook their head and they were back into silence. 

It must have been half an hour before she rose out of her chair with the cracking of bones and a groan. “Takeru’s sitter must be losing her mind by now.” 

“I’ll call you when he wakes up.” 

“Thank you, Iwaizumi.” 

“Hajime is fine, you know.” 

Throwing her purse on her shoulder, she nodded with a signature, charming Oikawa smile. “I know.”

As soon as the door closed with a click, Iwaizumi gripped the bottom of his chair and scraped it across the tiles until it was up against the hospital bed. Like in some sort of daze, he leaned forward. Resting his chin on Oikawa’s thigh, Iwa watched as he slept, soft and rhythmic puffs of breath playing with the disheveled curly bangs. 

Iwaizumi found himself gripping a weirdly warm hand. “Wake up, ‘Kawa.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was the feel of sharp nails on his scalp and the sweet humming that caused for Iwaizumi to shoot upright from the position he was sleeping. 

Oikawa visibly grimaced at the symphony of cracking bones as his arm fell lifelessly from Iwaizumi’s head to the bed. 

“Morning, Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi blinked owly because what the hell, he doesn’t know what he’s feeling let alone _say_. 

Oikawa looks fucking exhausted with two sunken and dim eyes, skin that looks more gray than creamy. His hair was greasy, the curls weighed down but still somehow everywhere. 

“T-Tooru, I- You-“

“Don’t hurt yourself, Iwa-chan.”

“Why did you do- _this?_ I don’t get it-“

“It wasn’t _on purpose_ , but don’t feed me that bullshit. You don’t _understand_? Wow, rich, Hajime.” Oikawa’s tone was dry and scratchy, sharp enough to plunge in Iwaizumi’s chest and cease his heartbeat. “You really don’t remember much about your childhood, do you?”

_What the fuck is he talking about?_

The laugh that jingled from his best friend's chest had Iwaizumi slumping back in his chair, dumbstruck. “Tooru?”

The gaze that flicked to him looked unhinged. “It drives me absolutely _insane._ Why do you think your brother left as soon as he turned eighteen or that half of your childhood is just fucking missing? Why don’t you remember your own damn father, Iwa- _chan_?” Oikawa shook his head at Iwaizumi’s shocked face with a scoff, eyes slowly peering back ahead of him. “For how smart you are, you don’t seem to think too much into things.”

Iwaizumi was on his feet, chair flying back with a screech. “Don’t make this about me. I’m not the one in a fucking hospital bed, crazed half out of my mind because I attempted _suicide_ a day ago. Stuff my childhood up your ass, Oikawa.”

“Just leave, Iwaizumi.”

  
  
  
  


Iwaizumi always knew he liked alcohol a little too much. 

Knew that in the way he never skipped a party or how every weekend was a dazed blur of the feeling of burning in his stomach and the spinning in his head, of lights and laughter. 

Sometimes even in the way his knuckles were sticky and cracked when we woke up in the morning. 

But he figures sitting alone in the darkness of his bedroom, nursing a whiskey bottle like it’s a baby bottle takes the cake. 

Memories were going around in his head like a fucking merry-go-round. Memories of grass and mud, of Oikawa’s sticky sweet laughter following him around everywhere and him minding not even a quarter of what he pretended to. 

Oikawa always grabbing his hand, Iwaizumi blushing and snapping back the appendage before he could dive too deep into the tightening of his chest. 

The faint feeling of being in Oikawa’s arms, the reasoning why suppressed someplace he can’t quite reach. 

Oikawa’s lips on his-

With a gasp, Iwaizumi sat up from where he leaned against the wall as the memories, faded and barely there, kept coming. 

His hand was shaking, half from the hard liquor and half from nerves, as he reached for his phone. 

He tried his best to navigate his gallery through blurry eyes but he landed on the deleted photos, just a few hours before whatever was in the folder was officially gone.

And the device slipped from his fingers to hit the tatami mat of his bedroom with a dull thud. 

The vomit that pushed itself into Iwaizumi’s mouth was putrid and hot, almost as hot as his skin grew. Sweat beaded at his neck and ran down his back. 

Him and Oikawa-

He-

The way Makki looked at his door so confused after the bastard left. 

_“How many times have you jacked off to the thought of me, Haji-chan?”_

And that was all it took to have Iwaizumi scrambling off his bed and bounding down the hall. He threw himself down at the toilet with the cracking of his knees against the tile. 

When his stomach was emptied and he was left shaking, Iwaizumi pushed himself off of the porcelain to fall on his ass against the bathtub. 

Head falling against the rim, he looked up at the ceiling with black dotting his vision. 

He knows his mom finding him in this state wouldn’t be the best situation, but it feels like his body has been sewn into the ground.

He doesn’t think his legs would work anyway, useless as they laid sprawled out in front of him. 

He just-

All Iwaizumi can coherently think is that he wants everything to _stop._

Because Oikawa knew what he was saying this morning. He wasn’t making things up to poke at Iwa. He was stating the obvious. 

But _fuck_ , so what Iwaizumi is fine with the hole in his memories? Look at what remembering did to Oikawa. 

He doesn’t need his brain to be tearing itself apart or rotting due to whatever that peice of shit did before he fucking split. 

He doesn’t _need_ or _want_ it okay?

Maybe he should just let Tooru go. 

Maybe they’re bad for each other and that dumbass is right. 

Maybe that night was some sort of fucked up, completely Oikawa way of saying goodbye. 

As everything finally went quiet, he realized in the sleepy haze of his eyes sliding closed and his muscles relaxing, he forgot to call Miku. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry that i made oikawa like that-


	23. 22- two years and a half later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least it was quiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi !! 
> 
> Welcome to the start of the next arc of this fic. This is a very short chap (yes even shorter than the 1k it's supposed to be) but it wanted to give a taste what the next many chapters will contain and just what direction this is taking. 
> 
> Please don't treat the tags like they're just there. This isn't a happy story.
> 
> Also, lmao, I wrote this a little high off an edible so.... there might be many a mistake ;)  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> Alcoholism trigger.

It was a routine. 

A sick, tiring and pathetic routine that almost compels Iwa to blow his fucking brains out every morning when he wakes up to a blaring alarm and a raging migraine. 

He hated university. He hated learning about shit that doesn’t even pertain to his aspiration. He hates the uptight, snobby assholes he surrounded by in _every goddamn class._ He especially can’t stand sitting in chair after chair, counting down the minutes to when he has to book it from his med class to work just to work his ass off doing mind-numbing factory work where he’s back to counting digits and watching clock hands. 

All so he could get in his car with the slam of the rusted door. 

Exhaling a deep sigh, Iwaizumi watched as the air swirled in front of his face in the frigid air. Starting up the car so it could warm up, Iwaizumi let himself melt in his seat, eyes fluttering closed. 

At least it was quiet. 

The snow falling around the clunking vehicle seemed to absorb all noise of the Tokyo highways and nightlife. Sometimes, to Iwa, sitting completely still in falling snow feels like time is slowing down.

 _It’s therapeutic,_ he thought to himself before opening his eyes slowly to the sight of alit Tokyo much too close in the distance. 

He slammed the car into drive with a curse. 

  
  


The sign of the 24/7 convenience store was buzzing so loudly that Iwaizumi could hear it through his car. 

Even though it was nearly two in the morning, people, who Iwa fittingly call nightcrawlers, numbly stroll along inside. Their eyes vacant as they scan the shelves and the fountain drink machines like they’re out here for anything besides numbing agents. 

Which reminds him. 

Taking the keys from the ignition, Iwaizumi stepped out into the bitter cold with a huff. Kicking his boots against the brick of building, he made sure all clumps of snow were shook off before stepping inside. 

He walked up to the counter, digging in his pocket until he found the piece of plastic. 

The cashier watched him with a fish-like gaze as Iwaizumi tossed the fake I.D. onto the counter as he walked past, taking a familiar route through shelves until he winded up at doors, displaying boxes and bottles and cans. 

But this stuff didn’t do it for him, never did. 

Beers and wines and seltzers always took too long. They just were never enough to kill the itching at his skin. 

Turning towards the aisle at his right, he felt the muscles of his back relax. 

Whisky, however, was perfect. 

Scarred knuckles flexing around the neck of the Jameson bottle, Iwaizumi made his way towards the counter to stare at the dead employee’s gaze. 

_Nakomota_. 

He comes here every other night on the clock and this sorry bastard is working 75% of time. Iwaizumi never cares to remember his name. 

He would feel bad but the cashier never cared for his either. 

“Is this all sir?” He voiced in a dry, cracking and deep monotone. 

Iwa nodded his head and handed over some yen. He told the guy to keep the change, grabbed the green bottle, and exited the store with the jingle of the bell atop the door. 

As soon as he was sat in the car and got it running, his hands were immediately to work folding and crumpling the brown bag until it was fashioned right around the lip of the bottle.

Iwa unscrewed the cap, set it between his pointer finger and the bottle. He took a hefty swig while moving his car into drive with his elbow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	24. 23- I said I’d never end up like this again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi let the small boy pull him up and drag him towards the ensuite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing another little OC and he’s my baby i love him
> 
> also iwa lives in a co-ed apartment/dorm with Daichi, Kuroo, and Bokuto so yuh 🥴  
> -  
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> -  
> -  
> -  
> panic/anxiety trigger

Fist slamming into his alarm clock, Iwaizumi peeled himself from his bed with a long, resonating groan. 

Snatching the half empty plastic bottle from his cluttered night stand, he chugged the remaining contents before crumpling it in a fist. Iwaizumi stumbled from his bedroom, his head heavy as it moved side to side as he walked. 

Once his eyes adapted to the more than optimal amount of sunlight streaming into the apartment, they settled on the angel who was sitting on the dirty, used couch pushed against the wall. 

“Morning, Iwaizumi,” came the cinnamon voice that somehow settled the migraine knocking on his skull. 

Knowing his voice wouldn’t be anything but a rusty grumble, he only offered the pretty boy a small smile and a nod before continuing his way into the kitchen. 

Daichi, from where he was standing at the stove, held out a plate full of eggs and sausage. “I’m fine-” 

“Don’t you work out in a few?” Daichi asked, head rounding on Iwaizumi, showing two big brown eyes. “I’d rather you eat before you head to the gym.” 

Iwaizumi slowly took the plate, not being able to bring himself to say no again. 

Just as he turned around to walk back out to the living room, Daichi said, “where’s your shirt, Iwa?” 

Shrugging with a shit smile, he popped a sausage link into his mouth. “I’m not going to steal your boyfriend, ‘Mura.” 

The man huffed, but through a poorly contained smile. “Speaking of boyfriends-” 

Iwaizumi interrupted him with a long groan, setting the plate down on the counter knowing he’s going to be here for a while. 

Daichi flipped a perfect easy egg over before turning on Iwaizumi, thick arms crossing over each other. “Maybe finding someone that will last more than a night might make you feel better about yourself,” the brunette snided through a friendly grin. 

Iwaizumi felt a shake go through his muscles. _Christ._

“It’s not that simple.” 

“What isn’t, finding people?” His voice was all feigned innocence. 

Iwaizumi sighed through his nose. “No-” 

“Then what is it, Iwaizumi?”

The accusatory tone was starting to piss him off. This happens at least once a week, Daichi trying to get Iwaizumi to admit it. “Just forget it.” 

He went back to cooking with a hum and Iwaizumi grabbed his plate with a sound of displeasure. He stormed all the way towards the recliner situated a few feet from the couch and fell in it, one leg draped over the arm rest. 

He ate in pleasant silence until, “I can get him to back off, y’know.” 

Iwaizumi looked over at Suga, teeth bit around a sausage. The silver haired man looked weirdly pleased with his cocoa eyes sparking. “Huh?” 

He laughed, pretty little bubbles to raise from his chest to pop in the air above their heads. “Daichi,” he said in that bell voice. “I can tell him he’s being a butt.” 

“A… butt?”

Sugawara nodded, the smile he’s bearing giving a scary contrast against the sweet voice he’s putting up. “Yep,” he chirped, quieting down when Daichi came through, bearing another plate. He beamed an adoring smile at the skeptical look on his boyfriend’s face as he grabbed the offering. Daichi shook his head at him before going back in the kitchen. 

Suga looked so happy as he effortlessly slid the egg onto the chopsticks to gently place it on a small tongue. He chewed with his eyes closed. 

Iwaizumi felt sad. 

He went back to his own food, his limbs and eyes heavy as he lifted the bites to his mouth and chewed in what felt like slow motion. 

The sunlight felt lukewarm on his skin, looked gray from the corner of his eye. 

Then, everything exploded into a bright vibrancy when, “Hey, Iwa. Weren’t you and Oikawa Tooru really close once upon a time?” 

Chopsticks fell from his fingers, wood tinking against glass before falling to the ground with an empty thud. 

“Suga.” Daichi sounded like he was very, very far away, muffled from the water rapidly accumulating in Iwaizumi’s ears. “Don’t-” 

“It’s fine,” he found himself saying, much more harsh than he intended. He bent at the waist, plucking the sticks with his fingertips. He twirled them around until they were held proper in his fingers. “Oikawa,” the name felt unfamiliar, foreign on his tongue, “went to school in Argentia.” 

Suga’s surprised noise almost pulled a small smile on Iwa’s stiff lips. “Wha- why Argentia?” 

_Probably to escape his dad._

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Never made it to that conversation.” 

The silence, which was far from a normality around Sugawara, fell about them and Iwaizumi felt a heavy gaze burning the skin of his cheek.

The ex-setter broke it with a hum and Iwaizumi was relieved of the intensity. “I always thought you two were practically glued together.” 

“Guess you were wrong.” 

“Guess so.” 

  
  
  


Iwaizumi hated being lonely. He hated the chill of it, the hollowness that would settle over his guts. 

So when the booze wasn’t enough to warm him, in came Haruna. 

And Sakura.

Sora. 

Shotaro. 

Yui. 

In came the conquests, the only sense of excitement. Those who’d swipe right or slide a paper in front of him during class as they walk by. 

He doesn’t like what he does. He hates how he didn’t grow out of this by college like he aspired for himself. 

But god, the way the quickened breaths were breaking on his skin and the brutal slapping of skin resonated in his bones, it makes him feel whole just for a little blissful bit. 

“Ha- ha-” the boy stuttered, eyes squeezing shut as his nails bit into the flesh of Iwaizumi’s back.

Iwaizumi kept snapping his hips up, wreaking havoc on his prostate. Leaning down, he let his lips brush a red-tipped ear. “What’s that?” 

“‘M, cl- fuck, close. Close.” 

Mindlessly, Iwaizumi reached between them and gripped the pretty dick in a fist. Akihiko’s hips jumped, a scream strangled as it was held captive in a throat. 

Iwaizumi watched with a foggy vision as he pulled the gorgeous boy beneath him apart at the seams, moans loud and unabashed, thighs quivering, arms weak where they are lifelessly draped over strong shoulders. “Aki,” Iwaizumi purred at the boy’s ear as his fist did one last, final tug and the boy was cumming with a scream. 

He looked almost lifeless as his arms fell to his sides, eyes small slits as they stared up at Iwaizumi. “Quickly, Hajime,” he said through a sleepy smile, voice small and sweet. 

With a chuckle, Iwaizumi gripped Akihiko at the waist, lifting him just slightly, not even a millimeter above the sheets. 

Akihiko raised a shaking arm against the wall, holding him in place. “I won’t go that har-” 

“I said it’s fine,” he retorted, almost defiantly. There was a glint in honeyed eyes. 

And like those words were simply enough for him to completely let go the grip on himself, Iwaizumi slammed himself in to the hilt. The grunt of pain Aki emitted was running circles around his head as his eyes squeezed shut, colors dancing behind his eyelids. 

The familiar and painful tugging began in his abdomen, hot as it spread like wildfire throughout his body to lock up all of his muscles. 

He lost sight of himself as he blindly fucked into the tight hole beneath him, caught up in the animalistic chase. 

Finally with a low, resonating groan, all the fire in his veins turned to ice within a nanosecond, leaving everything a perfect, euphoric blank. 

It was Akihiko’s finger brushing a bead of sweat from Iwaizumi’s temple that brought him back. 

Lifting himself with shaky arms, his gaze connected with what should have been adoring yellow, but all he saw was chocolate. 

Warm and expressive, chocolate orbs.

With how quick his heart slowed in his chest like a cold, heartless drug was coursed his system, eating up all relief that his orgasm brought him, it was almost scary.

And fingers were now on his cheek bones, smearing something cold along the hot skin. 

_“Iwa,”_ something warm and wet was surrounding his throat, tightening with each breath Iwaizumi tried desperately to pull in his lungs. _“You’re crying.”_

Iwaizumi sucked in a sharp gasp before pushing himself away, scrambling pathetically off the bed. 

“Hajime!” A voice was yelling, too honest and sweet to be him. “What’s- you’re scaring me.”

A hand, too small and soft, was reaching out in front of him, shaking with baby blue painted nails. 

_Akihiko._

_It’s just Akihiko with his blonde hair and his translucent skin giving way to the sight of blue rivers, the veins staining the skin blue._

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi gasped between panicked breaths. “It wasn’t you just- I need a minute.”

Iwa felt the silence tick as he sat naked on the cold flooring of the poor boy’s bedroom, panting. 

Then with a sigh and feet hitting the floor with a soft slap, Iwaizumi felt Aki standing before him. Hands were wrapping around his own and Iwaizumi felt a sliver of the anxiety dissipating, just a bit. 

“Let’s go shower, huh?” He said, voice level. 

Iwaizumi let the small boy pull him up and drag him towards the ensuite. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave some comments if you want they really make my whole day 🥺


	25. 24- carcass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo then took back that breath, shakily. “Do you want to smoke?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been a while huh

Iwaizumi doesn’t fucking get it. 

He doesn’t understand what the _fuck he is doing right now._

He’s too drunk to get out of bed, knowing that if he moves everything will upturn and he’ll be spewing the peach he ate this morning and a protein bar all over the poor and abused flooring of his bedroom. 

Daichi was knocking on his door, he thinks he’s given up but Iwaizumi can’t tell. The hammer of his ear drum feels like it’s malfunctioning. 

He’s had five missed calls from Aki. 

He got fired for being drunk on the job tonight. 

_Fired_ \- With a strangled scream lost somewhere in the water logging his ears, Iwaizumi shot up in his bed, hands balled into fists as he beat them into the softness of his blankets. 

_Pathetic._

_Worthless._

_Hopeless._

He doesn’t get how it was just Oikawa leaving, he doesn’t get how that fucking cunt had this much of an effect on him. 

He just doesn’t fucking understand and it’s making his brain _boil_ , it’s making him _froth_ at the mouth because even a world away Oikawa still has this ridculous hold over him. 

It only hurts worse when Iwaizumi knows Oikawa doesn’t spare a single thought.   
  


Iwaizumi was sitting on the couch feeling like he was dying when Kuroo stumbled through the door sometime between three and four in the morning. 

Fuck, he hust wants to _try._ He wants to just give stopping all this a fucking shot but with the drop of his gut, he saw something in his dark haired roommate he never thought he saw. 

In the fluorescence of the TV, Iwaizumi could make out two puffed pink eyes through his migraine blurred vision. “Kuroo-” He started but the lanky chem major held up a shaky hand with a sob. 

“I’m-” 

“You’re not fine.” Every word he muttered caused the thumping in his head turn to bullets lodging into skull one after another.

With a long sigh, Iwaizumi scooted over and Kuroo took the few steps before falling next to him. He reeked of something sweet and vodka. Iwaizumi’s skin began to itch at the smell. His mind was running itself sick on it. Until, “I confessed to Kenma. Finally.”

It was the ghost of a smile shining behind the curtain of tears, looking wrong on a pained face that had Iwaizumi forgetting about feeling like he was on the brink of death, of the feeling of his brain pulling itself apart. 

“Fuck, Iwaizumi-” The raven groaned, rubbing at his face. He peered at Iwaizumi through the cracks between his fingers. “I thought it was obvious. Kenma, the way he felt. Right?”

Iwaizumi recalls dead amber eyes. Remembers the way they looked as they peered up slowly, life and brightness pouring in by the motherlode. 

Iwaizumi, feeling like something had died in his mouth all day, could only nod. 

He wants to give Kuroo a response, he wants to give him _something_ but the effort has depleted from his bones. All Iwaizumi wants to do is sleep. 

“He exploded, Iwa.” 

But that got to him. Kenma was always so stoic, collected. “How?” He tried not to take any mind to his voice, how it caught in his throat and scratched it’s way out. He sounded like a corpse. 

Kuroo looked at him out of surprise before it melted into blue. “I don’t even know, it was so quick. He was just screaming, blaming, saying I would never give up my ‘hoes’ for him or give up getting blasted every weekend. He said I wouldn’t do it for years and years of friendship then me being able to fuck him wouldn’t change anything.” 

“Kuroo-”

“He was right.” _No._ “This is how I’ve been since freshman year, what would a slight difference in my life change?” 

Before Iwa could speak, Kuroo was turning towards him, his face heavy with something. “You probably understand everything I’m saying right now. Don’t you?”

Iwaizumi could only shake his head. 

He got lost in this addiction trying to get his mind off another one. He dived into alcohol and mindless fucking to forget about porclain skin and curls, of teal and chocolate. 

He’s not like Kuroo. 

This is nothing like that. 

This is a tortuous cycle that has swept Iwaizumi up. 

“No, Kuroo. I- I believe that if you really wanted to and Kenma was patient, you could stop.” 

“Why are you saying that like you can’t?” 

And with the snap of fingers, Iwaizumi was standing in his living room. He could hear his mom crying and hear himself screaming. Through all the chaos, came a steady voice that Iwaizumi would kill to hear right about now, _“one day you’re going to realize it, Hajime. You’re going to fucking remember and you’ll be aware of what is flowing through your veins.”_

The hole, the persistent hole that takes up half of his mind. 

“Iwaizumi?” 

Blinking, he pushed himself off the couch. “Don’t give up so easily, Kuroo. That’s not like you.”

Just as a shaking hand closed around his door knob, Kuroo practically seethed, “it’s not like you either.” 

Iwaizumi let his burning eyes slide closed. He breathed for two seconds. “I don’t want to fight.” 

Kuroo blew out a breath. The silence that perused was a beat between them in the dead silence of the apartment. 

Kuroo then took back that breath, shakily. “Do you want to smoke?”

Iwaizumi let go of the knob. 

He doesn’t want to. 

But at this point, who is he kidding?

“My car?”

Kuroo hummed and pushed himself from the couch with the squeal of springs and Iwaizumi felt lost in himself as he made his way across the stupidly small apartment and pinched his keys from the bowl. 


	26. 25- no clear objectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Until two months ago the whiskey wasn’t enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chap but crucial ig :)

The smoke danced from Kuroo’s mouth dizzyingly in Iwaizumi’s swimming vision. 

His fingers felt like they were glitching as he took the clear, simple bong in his own fist.

He’s fucking faded, obliterated. 

“Y’know, Iwa,” Kuroo started in a raw voice. His eyes, narrowed and puffy, stared off into the smoke of the cab almost fish-like before murkey orbs rolled their way towards Iwaizumi. They ran him up, catching on the bruises and eye bags, on the stained sweatshirt and the ripped and frayed jeans. “I really hope this doesn’t trip you up.” 

Cough. “What do you mean?” 

A hum. “Oikawa. What you’re doing with your life.”

And with the stopping of his heart, Iwaizumi slowly set the bong on the dashboard. His eyes were burning but he was too fucking high to really disipher what’s going through his head. 

Until the words just started pouring out. “He was the best person in my life, Kuroo. I don’t- fuck.” 

“Hey, it’s cool.” 

“No, I- I’m fine.” Looking for words was like searching through fog. 

He can feel them on his tongue, he feels like he can say all that’s been swirling in his mind for almost two fucking years. 

“I don’t want it to be like this. I really wish I could have been at least half as strong as I pretended to be. I want to be able to go about my life, I want that pretty fucker out of my head, but it just isn’t that simple. _Fuck_ , Kuroo! He was so damn funny and charming and _warm_ and- he was the only thing that made me happy.” As the last word left his mouth to hang like a gutted, rotting deer between them in the cab, Iwaizumi felt the emotions bubbling and popping in his throat far too late for him to stop them. 

Doubling over from the force of it all tearing at his lungs and his heart, Iwaizumi placed his forehead against the worn leather of the steering wheel and sobbed. 

He sobbed until he could taste blood boiling in the back of his throat. “He took a piece of me and I don’t have any way of filling it, Kuroo. Not a damn way.” 

  
  
  
  


_~~Four months later~~ ;_ May

Half way through the school year, Iwaizumi didn’t think it could get any worse. 

Weaning off of alcohol, he thought he hit rock bottom.

Until two months ago the whiskey wasn’t enough.

And Iwaizumi fell in love with little white bars. 

Absolutely, utterly enamored with the pure _nothing,_ with the pretty face getting further and further away. He can’t recognize the boy anymore. 

He thinks he likes it that way, the way where he can’t think.

Because he can’t feel his own bed beneath him. He thinks he’s forgotten his own name, but he feels free for the first time in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh um btw
> 
> the rise in kudos recently has meant EVERYTHING to me omg its so close to breaking 200 and just w o w
> 
> everyone who has devoted their time to this trainwreck, youre amazing and- yeah im really bad at this 
> 
> just
> 
> thank you, from the bottom of my heart. i fail at most things so i appreciate the validation and support <3


	27. 26- warm, unalone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, no. It’s just, I haven’t seen you smile in a long time.” His hand was cold as it cupped Iwaizumi’s cheek, the touch just barely there as if it was a ghost. “Happy suits you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck yeah double update

Akihiko sat up with a sigh a mixture of content and tense. 

Iwaizumi watched the blankets pool at his waist before forcing his eyes on the pretty male staring down at him. 

He quirked a brow and Aki sighed again. 

“The school year is over in a week.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Iwa.” 

“Hmm.” 

A scary beat of silence. “Iwaizumi.” 

Each syllable, beat of his name was spoken out slowly and perfectly. Still, he only said, “what?” 

There was a playful slap at his chest, manicured nails kissing the skin. “You’ve been stupid since you got here, what’s your issue?” 

When Iwaizumi didn’t say anything, the blonde rolled onto his back with a big smile, nestling under Iwaizumi’s arm to look up at him with large blue eyes. “Am I boring you?” 

Opening his mouth, he wanted to say something but you see, this xanax refuses to leave his system like it’s supposed to. It has been stubbornly clinging to his brain for an hour longer than it’s supposed to, making everything foggy and distant. 

It was hard enough fucking Akihiko properly much less talk about whatever important thing the asshole wants to talk about. 

_C’mon, Hajime, it isn’t hard. Just open your mouth and talk, you’ve been doing it since forever._

“I’m just tired, that’s all. I’m sorry.” 

Aki hummed sweetly before shifting again, this time onto his stomach. Crossing his arms over Iwaizumi’s torso, he continued to assault Iwa’s barred-out brain with his gaze even more as he placed a chin on top of his arms. “I’m proud of you, you know.” 

The words danced on his skin, wrapping about his arms to raise the hairs and goosebumps along the flesh there. They were making folly of his brain; he didn’t know whether or not to feel guilty or happy at the remark.

With his heart clenching, he finally looked back at the boy. “For what?” 

“You’re drinking. You’ve gotten better.”

He could only stare with his lungs still in his chest and his head beginning to ache, eyes burning from lack of blinking. 

He can see the orange bottle nestled in his jeans pocket strewn on the floor. He can feel the xanax still stubbornly in his system in the buzz of his limbs and the nothing in his mind, can feel it in the way where he feels like he’s floating and how Akihiko’s weight on him is barely there. 

Maybe he only drinks on the nights out with the guys. 

Maybe his life seems less visibly hindered. 

But alcohol is nothing, _nothing_ compared to whatever Hell Iwaizumi is walking into willingly. 

“It was never much of a problem,” he finally muttered between two heavy lips when he noticed Aki’s eyebrows furrowing and smile falling straight. 

“You don’t need to lie-” 

“Enough about me,” Iwaizumi announced, cutting Aki short. “What were you saying before?” 

The blonde rolled his eyes before saying, “school is over in a week. We’re going separate ways.” 

Suddenly, Iwaizumi would rather go back to him “getting over his alcoholism”. 

“Oh.” 

“Hmm.”

He should have tasted this conversation, should have _sensed_ it. It shouldn’t be blindsiding him like this. He starts every relationship like this with the thought of this situation happening, because the odds are too great not too. 

It’s not that he _loves_ Akihiko. He really doesn’t deem himself capable or worthy, even. Iwaizumi cares for him, treasures him.

Akihiko’s mouth parted with a dry sound. He wasn’t making eye contact anymore. “It’s just- we’re going separate ways; you north and me south. I know that this is casual and that’s not what I’m getting at.” Iwaizumi felt his chest exhale the heavy breath it was containing before he knew he was releasing the breath of relief. “But I do think of us as friends.”

“Okay-” 

“And I don’t want to lose you in that sense.” 

Iwaizimi felt the smile spread on his lips, foreign and unfamiliar but nice. “I don’t want to either.”

Akihiko’s baby blues went wide in their sockets as he lifted himself from where he was thrown across Iwa. “I- oh.”

“What? You weren’t expecting that.” 

“No, no. It’s just, I haven’t seen you smile in a long time.” His hand was cold as it cupped Iwaizumi’s cheek, the touch just barely there as if it was a ghost. “Happy suits you.”

  
  
  


Being back in Miyagi, like every time coming back, could only be described as surreal. 

Iwaizumi felt like he was watching himself as he drove the familiar highway towards the northern town. Taking the exit didn’t require thought, it was instinct. However, seeing that mountain he suddenly felt out of place. It crept up his spine slowly, causing for the uneasiness to marinate into his muscles. 

Stopping at the stop sign at the bottom of the hill to turn on the road that’ll take him closer to that mountain, Iwaizumi let his eyes slide closed. 

“This is stupid, Hajime,” he breathed to himself. He felt his hands flex around his steering wheel, and heard the faux leather’s protest. “We should be happy. We’ll be seeing everyone. You’re being-” 

The blare of a horn behind him snapped him from his thoughts and Iwaizumi accelerated through the clear intersection. 

He turned up his music and let the song turn the volume of his thoughts down a few notches.

Fifteen minutes later, he was parked in front of the only home he’s ever known, his car nose to nose with an expensive, black Benz. 

He saw a strawberry crew cut through the windshield. The driver window rolled down and Iwaizumi shook his head at the face that was presented. “Get the fuck in, Iwa. You’re late.” 

Iwaizumi let the small smile bloom on his face as he turned off his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the following is about drug abuse trigger, only read if it applies to you or you aren't worried about spoils :)  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> I'm realizing I probably should have put a xanax/drug addiction warning. I apologize for anyone who was offended or triggered, it's one of the worst things a human has to endure and I by no means think it is something to be taken lightly. If that is something that troubles you, I highly suggest to use your own discretion because the abuse will be more than an occasional thing Iwaizumi dives into. This fic is still being planned and altered which could mean a lot of things. So if you're wary, I suggest stopping here


	28. 27- red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had to have been one of his best nights in a long time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihi :)
> 
> I'm not really all that happy with this chap but it's been way too long since I've updated so yuh  
> here you go ig  
> (yall should comment to make me feel better haha jk... unless)
> 
> ALSO omg  
> I finally REALLY planned shit out for this fic and all the tags are concrete. The only thing that might change would be the amount of chapters if I wanted to include one more chap
> 
> that's all i got to say, enjoy

In the past couple years, Iwaizumi forgot how magnetic Hanamaki is. As they walked through the door of Matsukawa’s new pad, all eyes snapped to the tall ginger shit, mouths screwing as they whispered. 

In that time, Iwaizumi forgot he was more popular than Oikawa. However, for different reasons. 

Iwaizumi just watched as Makki walked like a god through the parted living room, swiftly snatching his boyfriend’s wrist as they all made their way into the backyard. 

Matsu stared down at him with glittering eyes. “Welcome back, Iwa,” he said slowly in his deep, snake-y tone. 

Iwaizumi shivered. It’s weird being around these two when his company had been firecrackers like Bokuto and Kuroo. “I would say it’s good to be back but you two are already creeping me out.” 

They both just stared down at him, expression’s frozen in time. Iwaizumi was just about to walk away when Matsu elbowed Makki and the now skinhead let out a long, long groan. “Fucking christ. We missed you and stuff. We’re really glad you’re back and I hope you’ve been doing okay. You’re mom said you were having some issues and yeah, we-” 

Iwaizumi, not able to take the robotic monologue Makki took upon himself to deliver, held up a hand and sighed. “Yeah, I missed you guys too. I’m fine. Now lets go get fucked up, aye?” 

Makki grinned like a shark as he strode past Iwaizumi, large hands shoved deep into jean pockets. “Let’s get fucking _sauced_ boys.”

  
  
  


The night was a blur of LED lights, pink and blue hues, and that comfortable burning sitting lowly in his guts. The bar he popped in the bathroom half an hour ago was coursing his system deliriously nice.

He didn’t know the name of the girl grinding her hips against his, he only knew the bottle clutched in his hand to take sips from every few swings of his body against hers. 

Uzi was blasting on the speakers. All of his songs sounded too familiar for Iwaizumi’s wasted ass to distinguish but it doesn’t matter. 

It had to have been one of his best nights in a long time. 

He was slamming the rest of whatever beverage he held in his hand while the unnamed girl’s hand was in his and she was pulling him through the house, heading for the stairs. 

But like a hatchet splitting wood, running face first into a wall, everything stopped around Iwaizumi for a minute. 

He suddenly remembers Makki saying some old upperclassmen have shown up. 

And through the world spinning around him and the cotton stuffed in his cranium, he heard the name jumping from a tongue a good few meters from where he stood still.  
  


_“...Ito-”_

Eyes snapping, Iwaizumi felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of him. 

Ito with his dark hair and slate eyes, those stupid fucking full lips and freckles. 

Leave it to fucking Oikawa to fall fool to a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

Ito suddenly stopped talking, his own eyes snapping to Iwaizumi. None of them moved, spoke, or even blinked. Watery gray to muted green, they just stood. 

Iwa could tell the monster knew he knew. He’d have to be stupid not to see that and Ito is anything but. 

He could only watch with a slowly beating heart as the unnerving smile on Ito’s face grew into a joker’s grin. “Little Hajime,” he sang lowly, a whistle following suit. “How have you been?” 

Iwaizumi felt his eye twitch as he fully turned to look at his once senpai. “What’s it to you?” He barely ground out. He doesn’t want to deal with this right now. This is one of his best xanny highs and each second spent in Ito’s presence is bringing it down. 

Ito’s laugh was plastic. “Oh, c’mon, Iwaizumi. Is it what happened with Tooru?” 

It was the light voice, the shamelessness, that had red crowding Iwaizumi’s vision hotly. He felt his fists curl. “I’d stop it there, Ito-” 

In the lighting, it looked like fangs were overlapping stretched lips. “Don’t be so blind, Iwa. He fucking _asked_.” 

Iwaizumi felt his eyes squeeze shut, the promise he made so long ago sitting heavy on his tongue, but the way he said Tooru’s name was running circles around his head. It was driving him ballistic. The anger was gurgling in his throat, pictures were flashing behind his eyes, and Iwaizumi is so fucked up. 

He thinks it’s a miracle he lasted this long, his track record for beating the shit out of fuckheads a regular occurrence. 

But behind his eyes he’s seeing grotesque scars and rivers of blood mapping thighs, he sees large innocent, love stricken brown eyes and it started in a low thrum moving in his right arm. 

“What are you going to do, Iwa? Hit me. Do you really think that’s what Tooru would want?” If Iwaizumi didn’t have his eyes squeezed shut, he’d see Ito’s gaze flicking between Iwaizumi and something behind his shoulder, metal eyes glinting, almost animalistic.

It was a familiar routine. The step, the emotions rocking his heart into a frenzy in his chest, the cock of his elbow. He saw slate eyes flash, a crack in the god-like shell Ito puts forth, and Iwaizumi smiled right before he felt the crack in his knuckles as they pushed against flesh and bone. 

“ _Tooru_ isn’t _here_. It’s just you and me.” 

The persistent smile fell from Ito’s smile as he looked at Iwaizumi from the corner of his eye. He slowly straightened, staring at Iwaizumi down the bride of his nose. 

Iwaizumi let it happen as Ito lashed out. He watched the thin limb reach other and grab at his collar, allowing Ito to pull him into his punch. 

Even with the drugs and the alcohol, the meanless sex, there is nothing that ever made Iwaizumi feel more alive then getting his shit rocked, the the pain of a set of knuckles settling against his cheek bone, then the feeling of his nose crack. 

So after stumbling back a few steps, he looked up at Ito and felt his cracked lips spread and stretch into a sick smile, exposing bloody pearly whites. His rocked jaw cracked and popped at the action. “You see, Ito, you don’t know me. You don’t know Tooru. But what you really don’t understand, I care more for that retard then I would ever myself.”

Ito rolled his eyes with a laugh. “You talk too much, little Hajime.” He took a step but Iwaizumi was quicker. Fisting the back of his t-shirt, Iwaizumi threw the dumb bastard onto the ground. “Oh? And you’re too slow.” 

Iwaizumi laid a harsh kick right in Ito’s stomach before grabbing a hold on his t-shirt again but this time to drag him across the flooring. Ito was scrambling to get his footing but Iwaizumi was already at the back door and throwing him onto the grass. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do this?” Iwaizumi stated, watching as Ito pushed himself to his feet. 

Just as he was in arms length, Ito laid out a straight punch, resonating on Iwaizumi’s face with a crack. He felt the blood gush in a torrent once again, warm as it pooled in his upper lip. He didn’t bother to wipe at it. 

He’s really starting to think that Ito’s not understanding, he’s not seeing that Iwaizumi’s an absolute fucking _feined_. 

Fisting at Ito’s collar, he let fearful eyes ingrain into his memories as he cocked his right fist. But then just as he almost let it go, “Tooru would-” spit “-be disappointed.” 

“I’m not the one who raped him,” Iwaizumi growled between clenched enamel before letting his fist fly. 

Iwaizumi laughed at the crack of his knuckles against the bastard's cheek. The blood as it dripped from his nose and into his mouth tasted sweet, making euphoria in his veins. “Say his name again and I’ll break your fucking jaw.”

Iwaizumi felt like he was losing his mind and he loves it.

Hearing sirens, Iwaizumi straightened with a hiss. “I promised I wouldn’t kill you. Not that I wouldn’t fucking hurt you.” 

About to turn and walk away, Ito fell into hysterical laughing. He said through a split lip, “you’re not walking away, Iwaizumi.” 

“Wha-” 

It started with a shove, and Iwaizumi was too barred to catch himself. Then it was just sharp pain, over and over again. Pain on his head, his face, in his guts. The feeling of blood on his skin was cold, but hot as it boiled in his throat. 

It was just red flashing behind his eyes, blurry images of bodies standing over him. 

_Well this just isn’t fucking fair, huh_. 

Just as he felt black pulling at his vision, as he spat blood all over the sharp grass and the shoes in front of his face, came a voice that haunts Iwaizumi every second of every day. 

“Ito, I would tell your dogs to back off if I were you.” 

Everything froze at the taunting, lilting voice. Iwaizumi could make out the original Chuck Taylor’s standing on the grass as he barely rolled over, a groan resonating from his chest. The shoes shifted for just a minute, inching closer but eventually retreated. 

Oikawa Tooru spoke again, “I could really make this hell for you.” 

Iwaizumi felt them scramble away before three new, indistinguishable faces crowded his vision and he finally felt himself black out. 

  
  
  
  


Iwaizumi stared in between the bars right into furious cocoa eyes and grinned ear to ear. He doesn’t really know how he got here, but he can say that it doesn’t really matter. 

The crusted blood, the swelling, the broken nose, none of it matters. 

How can it when he’s feeling more than he has in the past two years, when Tooru is so angry Iwa bets he’s tasting blood. 

“Good morning,” Iwaizumi said through his wolf smile. 

Oikawa rolled his eyes and unfolded his legs. Elbows resting on bent knees, he sang through a half-smirk, “fuck off, Iwa-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa POV next chap hehe


	29. 28- no tears left to cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fic is reaching it's revolution like literally next chapter and WE HIT 100 PAGES OMG CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT??? this originally was supposed to be so short and like nice haha whoops
> 
> anyway 
> 
> i included the dead dove: do not eat tag but idk if this is like "messed up" enough or whatever so... if it isn't pls just nicely tell me and i'll delete it. which reminds me, these next few chapters are going to be a little messy and kind of hard to get through so prepare yourself ig :)))

Oikawa stepped out of the jail, watching as Iwaizumi’s eyes slid closed, his chest filling as he breathed in the air impossibly deep. 

They stood there for a bit. All of Iwaizumi’s earlier cockiness has dissipated, leaving behind something simply horrifying. 

Iwaizumi parted his paper lips with an unsteady breath. “It’s spring.”

Oikawa hummed around the rock in his throat. “It’s been spring.”

Iwaizumi looked at him with tired, droopy sage eyes before they snapped to the melting snow and the mustard yellow sun. They then fell on cracked and dirty boots. “Sorry.”

Oikawa felt if he kept standing there regrettable things might happen so he began walking. He didn’t look to see if Iwaizumi was following. “What exactly are you sorry for?”

It was almost in half a breath that Iwaizumi was right beside him, a half-assed chuckle tumbling from his mouth. “Everything, I-I guess.” 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever stumbled.”

“Shut the fuck up, twinkykawa.”

“So you’re sorry for taking my situation into your own hands-“

“For beating the shit out of your rapist, sort of- yes.” 

“You can’t even see out of one of your eyes.”

Iwaizumi laughed. “He barely touched me. Cheating fucker.”

Oikawa kicked a rock under his sneaker before looking at who he still considers his best friend. “You were still kind of hot.”

Iwaizumi snorted and rolled his eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re pissed or not.” 

“I wouldn’t have bailed you out if I was,” Oikawa stated bluntly, still rolling the pebble beneath his shoe. 

“I didn’t want you to bail me out.” 

Looking up, Oikawa met Iwaizumi’s gaze and swallowed. There was something hard and unrelenting there. He wanted to say something, but as a rare occurrence, couldn’t find the words. “Who else would have?” 

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything, he simply peered forward. His gaze bounced between the trees and the mountains haunting over the small town in the distance. They dragged along the houses, got caught on kids playing on a playground. The same one they sat at wasted, looking for a place to stay talking about Mei. 

Those memories felt so hazy now, almost like they never happened. 

Oikawa wants to ask Iwaizumi what happened to him in the past two years so badly he can’t breathe properly or think of anything else besides for how malnourished he looks, the craters under his eyes, how his tanned skin seemed to somehow wash out into this gray tone. 

Iwaizumi looks half-dead, covered in bruises (even before the fight last night) and cuts and scars. He walked around like a ghost when his presence used to be aggressive. Oikawa remembers how when Iwa would enter a room, you’d feel it, you could taste it. 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi suddenly voiced, the sound cracking between the syllables. 

Oikawa could only look with wide eyes, not able to find it in himself to form words. 

Iwaizumi, after dragging his gaze over to look back at Tooru, had tears shining in the orbs. The moisture struck the color a bright, oak green. “Why did you delete the picture?”

All breath seemingly was ripped from his lungs in a greedy fist. The shaking first took havoc on his knees, settling as a deep ache in his right.

“Wh-what picture-“

“Don’t try it, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi breathed on an unstable breath. Oikawa watched as one lone tear ran down a pink cheek. “Just stop lying.”

_To what extent?_

“I’m tired of you keeping things from me.”

_Like your episodes, your entire childhood?_

“I’m so lost, Tooru.”

_Lying about everything?_

“I know-“

Iwaizumi doubled over in a scream, falling to his knees with a crack that had Oikawa flinching. His bruised and bloodied fingers gripped the side of his head, burrowing under the hat Oikawa brought him. They clenched around unstylish brown strands and pulled. They pulled until Oikawa blinked himself back to his feet and placed a shaking hand doused in cold sweat on Iwaizumi’s wrist. He pulled the limb back to his side and crouched down. 

“Hajime,” Oikawa whispered, hands moving to cup red cheeks layered in frozen tears. This wasn’t a position shocking to him, it made him feel nostalgic. “I need you to breathe, okay? You’re not alone. I’m right here.” 

All of Iwaizumi’s strength gave out, falling helplessly against Oikawa. “Don’t leave this time.” 

Oikawa let one of his hands burrow under the knitted hat, feeling the soft strands between his fingers. He let out a breath, resting his chin on the crown of Iwaizumi’s head. “Okay.” 

  
  
  
  
  
When Oikawa finally got Iwaizumi’s dazed ass to his feet and arrived at Hanamaki’s house, they both slid into the freezing car. Oikawa kept telling himself that the sakura’s will bloom soon and it’ll be warm as the car stubbornly heated up. 

He didn’t bother trying to make conversation with Iwa, knowing that the answers or inputs either wouldn’t make sense or would be said with irritance. 

Before Oikawa really knew it, black was tugging at his vision. He let it pull him under and in five minutes flat he was snoring in Iwaizumi’s passenger seat. 

However, it didn’t feel long until a large hand was shaking his shoulder and a soft voice pulling at his subconscious. “Tooru, shithead, you’re home.” 

Perking up, Oikawa looked at the front of his _house_ for the first time in two years. He let his eyes run over the pristine white siding, the flower beds and the perfectly trimmed trees. He let his gaze run up the pillars and counted the shutters. 

No lights were on. 

No car was in the driveway. 

“Is he home?” Iwaizumi asked, something heavy in his tone. 

Oikawa tsked. “No. Even if he was, I would be fine.” 

Iwa hummed before looking in front of him. “I know. Does he still think you’re going to be a surgeon?” 

Oikawa shook his head slowly as he thought about whether or not to tell him. 

_I’m tired of you keeping things from me._

Sighing, Oikawa let his head fall against the headrest. Eyes fluttering closed, he said, “we got in a really bad argument about it. That night I called you to come over and we watched basketball, the first time he hit me in years?” Iwa did a slow nod, eyebrows scrunching. “I told him I wasn’t going to be a surgeon that night. I said it doesn’t matter what he did or said, I was playing volleyball for the rest of my life whether he liked it or not. It was stupid of me, I should have just listened-” 

“What? _No."_

“Iwa,” Oikawa began with a sigh. 

“No, fuck that, idiot. You belong on a court.” 

“So do you.” 

“That’s funny.” 

Oikawa took in a long breath. “Maybe if I would have just accepted the future planned for me and stayed, things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did.” 

He waited, watching for Iwaizumi’s reaction that never came. There was no flash in his eyes, no scrunch of his forehead. Not even a fucking tick in the corner of his mouth. Just, simply, plainly nothing. 

Then the brunette looked forward and he blinked, revealing crystal, jaded eyes. “I don’t think anything could have stopped this.” 

Oikawa reeled against his door. “Wha-what do you mean, Iwa-chan?” 

A shiver bounced Iwaizumi’s shoulders before he melted against his seat. Oikawa wasn’t breathing. “Nothing. I told my mom I would be home half an hour ago. See you later?” 

Oikawa felt like he didn’t have control over his limbs as he grasped the handle and pushed the door open. One leg out of the cab, he sent one last look at Iwa to see him glaring at where his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “Haji?” 

Large green eyes snapped his way and Oikawa felt his breath hitch. “Yeah?” 

“You’re okay, right?” 

“Oikawa-” 

“Tell me I’ll get out of this car and you’ll be fine.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

Releasing a breath, Oikawa finally pushed himself out of the car.

Iwaizumi didn’t drive away until he was inside, until Oikawa gave him a thumbs up in the window. He thought that tradition died a long time ago.

But he didn’t have time to dwell, he needed answers. 

Running up the stairs and throwing the door behind him, he dug the phone from his pocket. 

Dialling the number and hearing that familiar witty drawl of a ‘hello’, he realized he probably should have prepared himself. 

He didn’t even say his own greeting in return. “What happened to Iwa-chan, Tetsu?” 

The long groan resonating from the raven on the other end caused Oikawa's gut to drop. “Tooru, where do I start?”

“Tetsu-” 

“You- fuck, Tooru. You really messed him up.” 

At this point, Oikawa was frantically pacing the expansion of his room, gnawing on his nail beds like a starved maniac. “I know. He just dropped me off and I’m worried-”

“Was he in a good mood?” 

“What-” 

“Tooru, was he okay?” 

“I don’t think so.”

_"Fuck."_

“He told me he’ll be fine and I dunno I-” 

“He told me he’d be fine too. That night he would have died if Sugawara didn’t get him to puke.”

_No._

“Oikawa?” 

He felt the phone slip from between his fingers to clatter helplessly to the ground. He stumbled against his wall, Kuroo yelling for him from the phone and Oikawa’s stunted breathing the only sounds in the room ran around his head, making him dizzy. 

_He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died. He would have died._

Oikawa numbly bent at his knees to grab at his phone. He couldn’t decipher whatever Kuroo was yelling about, so he just said, “is it xanax?” 

“Oikawa-” 

“Is it fucking xanax, Kuroo?” Oikawa screamed into the receiver. “ _Please-_ tell me he didn’t turn into them. Tetsu, please just- he couldn’t have. Just tell me Iwaizumi drinks on the weekends still, tell me he still thinks drugs are a stupid choice. Tell me he’s still fine-” 

“I can’t.”


	30. 29- violent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when life is this relentlessly horrible and unforgiving, good things never last long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about my absence, this chapter beat my ass for two straight months and its still not where i want it
> 
> but anywho
> 
> enjoy this nightmare

Oikawa never cared that Iwa-chan’s house was dirty and loud. 

He didn’t care that his brother was mean sometimes or that his dad would almost make Oikawa piss his pants just from a half-drunk look. 

He couldn’t care when Iwaizumi was beside him, when he could just have some place to hide. 

Then, like running face first into a brick wall, something befell Iwa’s mom. Something scary and weird and bizarre.

She would disappear so often, almost on the half hour. She’d come back with a shake in her limbs and wide eyes. Oikawa can feel scabbed and burnt fingertips brushing his skin when she’d touch him. He can see the scabs opening on pink lips when she smiles big. 

Oikawa remembers how she was the prettiest person he knew. 

It was when Iwaizumi’s dad found out about the source of her weird behavior and the torrent of weird and dangerous looking men coming in and out of the small house that it all really blew up in Tooru’s face. 

Him and Iwaizumi were both sitting on the couch, playing super mario when the door was thrown open, the knob lodging itself into the recently patched drywall with a smash. Oikawa about jumped off the couch, but Iwaizumi didn’t flinch. He didn't even look in the direction of his dad. 

If a person would have been looking in without knowing anything, they would think Iwaizumi deaf. 

Oikawa could only watch, shaking as Iwaizumi’s father drunkenly ripped the door out of the wall to slam it closed. “You druggie _bitch_ , where the fuck are you?!” He screamed into the small house, stomping down the hardwood. He was throwing open door after door. 

Haruki, during the chaos, walked out of the house with a duffel bag. He didn’t spare a single glance towards his little brother on the couch and his terrified friend. He simply closed the door as it barely sat on its hinges and walked down the sidewalk. 

Oikawa fell back on his butt, staring at the TV through bleary eyes as the maddened man continued to stomp through the house, yelling and tearing it apart. “I-I-Iw-Iwa-” 

Then he threw open the last door and the smell hit Oikawa’s nostrils instantly. The smell of chemicals, of plastic being burnt over a stove. He didn’t have long to dwell on it before the sound of skin against skin ricocheted throughout the house, shattering the walls. 

Even growing up in his own house of Hell, these sounds were nothing he experienced before. The blood-curdling screams, the grotesque way men yell at one another before they talk with flesh and bone, the sound of heavy things hitting the floor. The sounds of panic and fear, of primal instincts. 

Oikawa’s mom always took it silently, calmly. 

He thinks that’s why she did what she did. 

Oikawa can see perfectly in his head what’s happening in that room. 

She sounded insane as she continued to lament into the stained walls of the bedroom, hands digging into the unwashed bedding as he tried to pull her off. Oikawa can’t understand what she’s saying, especially as her husband and the man that went back with her fifteen minutes ago yell over her. 

He felt his body screaming to cry, but it felt like a dam was built. He can feel the pressure behind the bridge of his nose. His tear ducts burned. 

Oikawa knows exactly what vein is engorging and thumping underneath the skin of Mr. Iwaizumi’s neck. He can see it. He can almost feel the heat of it in his own. 

Oikawa felt his eyes flutter closed, the few stingy tears soaking his lashes and weighing them down. 

He tried counting, tried breathing, but the sounds kept getting louder and more alarming with each number and with each controlled breath. 

He wants her to stop screaming, he wants that gross weird man to vanish, and he wants Iwaizumi’s dad to _please_ just be sober. 

He wants all of this to stop. 

He wants it all to simply disappear. 

Just him and Iwa on this couch, in their own little world forever. Where they can laugh and be happy. Where they can be safe. 

Why is that too much to ask for?

What did they do wrong?

He’d _kill_ to go back, even if it was illusion or the calm before the storm. He wants to wake up with his head resting on Iwa-chan’s jean clad thigh. His mom calling for them in her old, bright voice that dinner is done and they’d run the few meters into the kitchen. 

He wants Haruki to mess up his hair again and call him names with a smile. 

But what he really wants is for Iwaizumi to make some sort of goddamn emotion. 

He wants him to cry and scream, he wants him to do _anything_ but stare in front of him with a never-changing face of indifference. 

His eyes looked void of color and it’s more terrifying than what’s going on down that hall. 

Just as Oikawa was about get his friend’s attention came the loudest, most abrasive bang to ever penetrate Tooru’s ears. Silence, thick and slimy, settled over the house besides for the faint sound of drywall cracking and falling. 

“If you don’t get _the fuck_ out of my house, that bullet won’t go in the fucking ceiling you hear me you waste of fucking _space?”_ There was rapid footsteps, ending with a loud crash. “Get the fuck away from her. Don’t fucking touch her.”

He’s heard the voice of Iwaizumi’s dad many times in many different tones and octaves. However, the sound that came from that man’s throat haunts over him much more than his own dad ever will. 

It was so rasped and angry and betrayed, so leaden with emotions Tooru could barely understand at the time. Still, he felt his heart seize.

Looking over, Iwaizumi was still gone, thumbs toying with the joystick and pressing buttons. In the brief lapse of horror, Oikawa can sort of hear the sound of Mario jumping and moving across the map. 

Oikawa stared at the corner of fish fogged eyes. He noticed the deep rise and fall of his chest, of Iwaizumi taking full even breaths. 

He looked asleep, like he was sleepwalking.

Oikawa kept his eyes on the boy’s face as screaming and terrifying sounds continued to emit from the back bedroom, as the weird smell began to become potent the longer the door was open. 

He didn’t even look when the man ran out of the house. 

He told himself this won’t be eternity. The flames will settle and die into coals, and everything will be fine and he can breathe again. 

It was almost like a hard, cruel unsuspecting slap to the face as Iwaizumi’s mom screamed the only thing Oikawa could make out, “please, Hoshi I can- Don’t let Haji see me like this. Don’t make him watch this-“ Her voice died and Tooru flinched. 

Tears, hot and unforgiving finally spilled over his swollen bottom eyelid to seer streaks into Tooru’s cheeks when the sound of whimpering and something very heavy being dragged along the carpet was fully comprehended in his brain. 

Oikawa had to will himself to keep his eyes ahead. He just had to entrance himself. He had to ignore the way Hajime’s body shaked, how hard his jaw clenched. He can’t dwell on how he’s watching the love of his life tear himself apart, how he’s frying his brain. 

He kept his focus on the tanned skin, on the pretty eyes, on the sun spots dotting along the boys neck. He conjured the image of Iwaizumi smiling, the sound of his laugh. 

He remembered what it feels like in his arms. And for a split, blissful second, he wasn’t here and none of this happened. He was in a different memory. 

But he was jerked from that false reality by a cruel hand on his collar, the wedding band burning where it brushed his neck. 

When life is this relentlessly horrible and unforgiving, good things never last long. 

“You goddamn worthless fucking slut. You’d do just about anything for your shit, huh? Cheat on me again and I’ll splatter your fucking blood all over your precious little boys, you hear me?” The door was ripped open for a second time and Oikawa barely saw through his peripheral vision of Iwaizumi’s barely awake mother being thrown out onto the front lawn by a mass of once beautiful raven hair. He could hear her sobbing through the door, can hear him throwing her in a car. 

Oikawa thought he was going to kill her. 

He didn’t sleep for nights afterwards, awake on the thought of her being dead and bludgeoned. He was too scared to go back. He didn’t have the guts to ask Iwaizumi if she was okay until he showed up at school after the weekend just fine with the usual lunch she made him. 

He seemed so much more upset then Iwaizumi over the incident. Thinking about it made him physically ill. It imposed a feeling to arch over his back for what will be the rest of his life. 

He didn’t realize it’s because Iwa has absolutely no recollection of what happened for years afterward. Not until Iwaizumi’s dad disappeared with Haruki following not long after. 

Iwaizumi barely spared a reaction. A mere shrug as Oikawa asked him if he was alright the morning after, but he remembers how his best friend stumbled through the school day, barely able to talk above a mumble like he wasn’t capable of the energy of talking. 

Oikawa would call it “going away” back then. 

When it dawned on him that Iwa was so used to it to the point, something that has been occuring in front of him since he was an infant, Oikawa felt an infallible amount of anger. It was the type of fury that you choke on, that overwhelms you, that leaves you shaking and sobbing. 

Hard and disgusting anger. 

He tried so hard to contain it at the sight of Iwa’s mom. He watched as her condition only worsened with lined lips. After her eldest son disappeared, Harui completely and utterly gave up. She let herself waste away in the back seats of strange mens’ cars, in the arms of escape and denial. It was probably the hardest thing he has ever done, pretending he doesn’t know or notice. 

Pretending he doesn’t _care._

Holding back the tears as he watched betrayal bloom in sage eyes, thinking he deserved it as Iwa cocked a fist because he could’ve done something so they weren’t where they are right now. 

He never liked lying to Hajime, Tooru never liked lying in the first place

Half a hellish year later, Iwaizumi was back- kind of. He was back to his smart ass comments, his insults, his aggressiveness. He got his energy back. 

However, still, something was off. It was almost like a malfunction, and if it weren’t for Oikawa’s issues, it would have flown over his pretty head. The blank stares were like a disease. 

The blank stares weren’t a rare phenomenon, they were something that happened by the hour. It would occur during classes, conversations, mid-eating, games, any time, anywhere. Oikawa thinks it’s what kept him from remembering. Whenever Iwaizumi would go into his head and question the big gaping hole of entire childhood, his brain would just shut itself off. 

It all made him irrevocably irate and aggravated. There were times Iwa would completely black out into rages, screaming fits where nothing could bring him down. Nothing he was saying could be decipherable. 

And when he realized he’s in a state where communication was impossible, violence. 

Punch after punch to be laid into his walls, anything glass to be shattered against any hard surface. Oikawa can still see behind his eyes as shards tore apart Iwaizumi's hands, blood carving rivers in the tanned skin to drip from mutilated fingertips to stained carpet. 

Sometimes he’d turn on the people near him. Oikawa still can’t describe what it feels like to witness or to take on the brunt of it all, he’ll admit much of the rages are lost to memory that weren’t written on flesh or physical surroundings. 

Then, always, he’d break down. 

He’d fall in Oikawa’s arms and he’d pass out, leaving Oikawa to clean everything up. Iwaizumi never asked him to explain what happened. 

He thinks Iwaizumi, although having no recollection, felt ashamed. 

Oikawa knows that Iwaizumi, deep down, is aware that not all of those bruises and black eyes came from his dad. That his dad’s deep hatred for him wasn’t irrational. 

Although it’s all murky pictures and muted emotions, it probably resides as a sick feeling in the very depth of Iwa’s stomach that creeps up when Oikawa sports bruises on his arms and his cheekbones, in the bags under his eyes. 

Tooru never admonished him for it. 

He never blamed him. 

Sometimes people don’t have the option to be good. It’s the things we do when we’re scared and confused and helpless. When we feel abandoned, desperate. 

Oikawa knows that maybe if he just would have woken Iwaizumi from his perpetual sleepwalking and brought him to treatment, things would be different. If they both went to treatment, maybe they could love each other like they’re supposed to.

Maybe they could let themselves love each other. 

Oikawa looked down at his hands, cold and bitten red as he flexed them into fists. He looked at the same car Iwaizumi has been driving since he was sixteen through teary eyes. He looked at the front door, the same door that has been slammed over and over again, thrown into drywall, has been ripped off it’s own hinges, that has broken noses and tiny little Hajime ankles that still leaves the oaf walking heavy and side-eyeing doors with no recollection why. 

All the windows were covered with blankets and bags to keep the cold out. 

Oikawa walked up the unkempt path, dodging the weeds creeping between the tiles. 

He didn’t bother knocking, knowing Iwa’s mom was at her ‘job’. 

It was silent inside the house and it looked the same as it did a few years ago. Oikawa doesn’t even think there were any new chips in the hardwood, no new stains in the carpet. The smell of crack cocaine has seeped into the walls, the metallic smell to haunt over the house until it falls. 

Oikawa looked up into the hall. He has walked up and down it so many times he could find Iwaizumi’s room with his eyes closed. 

Each step felt thunderous, leaving his knees to tremble and buckle. His palms were rushing cold sweat as one of them wrapped around the handle of Iwaizumi’s door. 

He cracked it open slowly. Every shift of the door, that little spot it would catch on the carpet. The familiar smell of it hit Oikawa in the sternum. The smell of cologne, bordering that line between cheap and designer along with the faint smell of clothes and liquor. 

Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut and pushed open the bedroom door the rest of the way. The carpet felt familiar beneath his feet, the bumps and the texture comfortable underneath his socks. 

Looking around it looked and felt so familiar, but it filled him with something rotting. It was cold as it settled over him, but weirdly warm at the same time. 

He felt wrong. 

He felt out of place for the first time. Standing in the doorway staring at the bed he’s slept in so many times, held between two warm arms, searching stained and beaten walls. He stood there for just a moment trying to calm himself down, squishing his clothed toes into the carpet. 

It wasn’t a bad feeling or intuition. 

It was like the memories this room contains have all turned sour, like they’ve all rotted and decomposed into the flooring and soaked into the walls. 

Oikawa took a shaky step forward and a stench of bile burned his nose. He stumbled back with a gag. 

Finally looking forward, Oikawa fell against the door trim. 

He couldn’t take in Iwaizumi’s slumped head or the way his feet laid on the floor heavily. 

He didn’t like the smell wafting from where he sat. 

He didn’t like the sounds of gurgling. There were noises Oikawa can’t find the strength to determine what, but they were all throaty and thick. 

Oikawa watched in horror as a spasm rocked Hajime’s body against the office chair. His shoulders kept bouncing against the material, his ankles clacking against the other as they sat crossed on the floor. 

Iwaizumi was fine half an hour ago. 

Iwaizumi was smiling an hour ago. 

He has to get over there, he has to make sure he’s okay. 

He wants to, he needs to, but each step forward feels like an ant making its way across a desert. 

And Tooru is so fucking scared. 

The shaking has become full blown tremors to wrack his entire body. He could barely firmly plant his feet without feeling as though he’s going to crumple. 

It doesn’t help that the smell is growing more foul with each step or that he can hear the bile as it continues to climb itself out of Iwaizumi’s unresponsive body. 

It was when the sound of choking and gagging rang out Oikawa closed the distance. He jerked the chair around and it was a violent reaction. 

A reaction that had him immediately concaving with a scream that ripped his throat. He couldn’t get it to stop, he didn’t know how to make it stop. It was tearing him apart as he slowly descended unto his knees. 

No matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, it was there, the sight. He feels like he’s on fire, like everything around him was on fire. 

He felt as another fit of convulses overtook Iwa’s body in front of him. It was more violent than the last one, shaking the chair on it’s wheels. 

Oikawa clamped his jaw shut, the wails morphing into high whines. He fumbled his phone from his pocket, biting his lip so hard he felt it open underneath the enamel in an explosion of rust and rotting strawberries.

As he brought open the emergency contact, he relied on memory as he dialed the number because the screen was only blurred color and alien text.

Resting a sweat-coated forehead on Haji’s knee, Oikawa let himself tear apart and break on the floor as he barely answered the first responder.   
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop im sorry 😁✨
> 
> also im adding this a few days after i posted the chapter,, um im really sorry if this chapter was a bit overboard or unnecessary, or even if it ruins the whole fic. if a few more people comment and say they dont like it i can delete it and rewrite it. again im sorry


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